Caution: Machine Scoring = Formulaic Writing

The last few weeks have seen a furor over machine scoring—especially as people recognize that this is the method proposed by developers of the CCSS writing assessments. In my view, machine scoring will inevitably promote formulaic writing. Why? Because machines readily recognize (and can be programmed to reward) formula; they are far less capable of following (or rewarding) complex thinking.

Students may write pieces that are fascinating, compelling, original, logical, humorous, or highly original. But none of those things in and of themselves will ensure high scores with automated scoring systems. Unless students package their thinking into a Jell-O mold formula with intro, transitions, and wrap-up so blatantly hit-you-on-the-head obvious that even a machine can spot them, it is unlikely that any of these important features will be rewarded with high scores.

Of course, this objection begs the question, “What’s wrong with formulaic writing?” Several things. First of all—and this seems obvious, but maybe it’s not—students didn’t come up with this organizational design. We did. It’s not their thinking—it’s ours. If we mean to teach writing as thinking, formula is a poor place to begin. The only way to learn how to organize information is by doing it—not by having someone carve out the path for you.

Second, it’s inauthentic. Look at your own favorite books—the ones you’ve read twice, quoted, given as gifts. You won’t find formula anywhere. Saying that formula is a stepping stone to serious writing is like saying that applying for an Amazon account is the first step toward writing a novel.

Finally—and this is perhaps the most serious problem with formulaic writing—no one wants to read it. No one. Not even people who are paid to read it. And though we seldom admit it, no one wants to write it, either. It is glorious, engaging, and delightful (albeit difficult or frustrating at times) to write your heart out about something you care about deeply. It is tedious and fatiguing to fill in the blanks for an outline someone else came up with. Nothing kills motivation faster than formula. Oh sure, students will write this way if coerced. They might pick up a pen or sit down at the keyboard, but they’re not present in the writing. Mentally and emotionally, they’re somewhere else. And the very minute no assessment is hanging over their heads, they’ll resign from writing—perhaps forever. Is this what we want?

I know the counter-argument: Some students need formula. They’ll fail without it. On behalf of those students (who won’t, who can’t speak up for themselves) let me say, let’s take a chance. Formula writers feel no joy in writing anyway. What are we risking? I know some will argue that formula writers are at least composing something that makes sense on a basic level. I disagree. They aren’t composing anything. They’re filling in the blanks. Do we seriously have so little faith in our students that we think they have no thoughts of their own? We might be surprised what they could do if we were genuinely interested in what they had to say.

I am fortunate right now to be living (for a few precious days) on an ocean beach. People swim and snorkel here, and all day, I can see them heading out, putting on their gear, getting ready to glimpse that magical world beneath the surface that forever calls to anyone who has seen it even once. Some people plunge in without a second thought. Others are more hesitant, taking a second look at that ocean. It’s just so . . . big. So deep. So filled with things most of us have not seen before. Going out into the ocean gives us a little taste of how it probably felt once to be an explorer.

So here we have our hesitant snorkelers, standing on the beach, gazing out. They want to go out there, but it’s so scary. Their main fear is that they will sink. They won’t, of course. Salt water buoys you up like a cork. You don’t even have to do anything fancy or strenuous, such as kick or move your arms—though snorkelers do, of course (thus creating the illusion that snorkeling is mainly for skilled swimmers). So to make sure they won’t sink no matter what, the hesitant snorkelers strap bulky life belts around their waists. Then they prop floating noodles under their arms. All this gear makes it extremely hard to get into the water. It does give them a bit of confidence, of course (not much—they’re still certain Mother Nature will outwit them). But now they can’t move very fast, can’t follow a turtle if one shows up, or dive down for a closer look at an octopus. In short, they have almost no freedom.

Which brings me to the point. Hesitant writers, weighed down with bulky, non-helpful formulas, cannot “swim” either. They aren’t free to become the writers they could be because they’re held in check. They cannot say what they really think or feel because it doesn’t fit the mold. And without that incredibly important incentive, they lose interest in writing because it’s no longer joyful, satisfying, filled with discovery. Once that inner urge to write is gone, the game is over. People don’t write to get high scores; writing is way, way too demanding of time and energy for such a trivial pay-off. People write because someone, somewhere is waiting to read what they have to say. No grade, no score, no assurance of AYP has one one-thousandth the motivational power of seeing or hearing from a reader who couldn’t put your writing down.

Here’s another point to keep in mind. I know some people will say, Well, formula’s not forever. It’s just a support for a while—until kids begin to think on their own.  Really? How old do you think those reluctant snorkelers will be before they toss their life belts onto the sand one day and declare boldly, “I’m just diving in this time!” The trouble with a formula is, it creates dependency. And the longer students cling to it, the more dependent they become—and soon they have lost whatever courage they had to think on their own. They will never unleash their own voices, discover topics they didn’t even know fascinated them, or write anything that moves another human soul. Do we have the right to take that away just because we’re nervous about how well they’ll do?

So what’s the answer? Here are four suggestions.

Talk. First, we have to talk to students—and get them to talk with one another, in purposeful ways—as writers. They need to talk about topics, about how to begin, about details they plan to include, about how and where to get information. We must teach them to ask one another prompting questions, real questions, the sort writers ask each other outside of classrooms:  What kind(s) of research are you doing? Have you thought about trying [fill in the blank] ? How did you come up with that word/image/way of saying it? How did you think to include that detail? Do you feel like this is the end—or do you have more to say? What sort of readers are you picturing in your mind as you write this? How do you want them to feel? What was the hardest part of this for you? I told you my favorite part—so what’s your favorite part? Will you write more on this topic? Have you read [fill in the blank]? And we must make sure they have these conversations during the process of writing—not just after the fact.

Model. Second, we have to model. Model what? Everything. From topic selection to overcoming lethargy, to research, planning, writing that first line (second line, second paragraph, ending, whatever), reading your own writing both silently AND aloud, daring to project your own personal voice, revising and editing and sharing with a live audience—and yes, even deciding how to package the final piece. We have to put ourselves on the line.

Read. Third, we need to read aloud to students of all ages—and teach them to look to their favorite writers for lessons and ideas on writing well. William Steig (Amos and Boris, Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, The Toy Brother)shows me over and over how to search for the absolute right word. Laura Hillenbrand (Seabiscuit)teaches me to rely more on verbs than on adjectives if I want my writing to be lively. From Sy Montgomery (Birdology, The Good, Good Pig), I have learned amazing lessons about how to breathe life into informational writing—and the importance of remaining curious about my topic. Gary Paulsen (Hatchet, Winterdance)has shown me how powerful fragments can be, and how important it is to include sensory details that help readers feel the cold, taste the fish, smell the alluring scent of a campfire. You can think of many examples of your own, I’m sure. Share them with your students—and invite them to search for their own.

Motivate. Finally, we have to get kids excited about writing. How? It isn’t as hard as you might think. The answer lies right within us. We need to look carefully, listen thoughtfully, and speak from the heart about what touches us. In her inspiring book Hidden Gems, Katherine Bomer talks about “falling in love” with our students’ writing so we can find the strengths within it. And once we’ve found them, we have to tell students what we love, what we noticed, what made us pause or catch our breath. Our heartfelt responses are the best motivators we have.  Computers will not do this for us. They are programmed to find errors, not strengths. Computers have no hearts. They don’t care one whit about building student confidence. Do we? If so, we’d better speak up before it is too late. Too many of our students have already ceased to believe they can write. We can’t leave any more of them stranded on the beach.

Assessing writing well is hard. It should be. Students’ writing is a form of literature, and demands the same attentive, deep reading you would give to any poem, story, or nonfiction essay you love. Such reading is time consuming, admittedly—and that’s where computers have us, hands down. They’re faster than we are, they don’t get tired, and they don’t need coffee breaks.  Or . . .  if saving time is more important to us than anything else, why not just have computers write the papers in the first place? Once formulaic instruction gets a foothold, we probably wouldn’t even notice the difference.

Coming up on Gurus . . .

Jeff takes us back to Mr. L’s class for a wrap-up of his lessons based on Paul Fleischman’s book The Matchbox Diary. And in two weeks, I’ll be reviewing Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s engaging little book exclamation mark. Though aimed at a primary audience, this book has a lot to say about punctuation (and conventions in general) to readers of all ages. Remember, for the best in writing workshops featuring traits, standards, process, and outstanding literature, phone 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.

 

 

In Protest of Machine Scoring

In a recent email to colleagues, respected writing teacher and author Tom Newkirk offered the following startling revelation: “In what will be an unprecedented spread of automated essay scoring, the two consortia creating tests for the Common Core State Standards both plan to use machine scoring of student essays.” Yes, you read that correctly: Test developers are actually planning to have students’ writing assessed by machines. I find this frightening. I hope you do, too. I cannot fathom any teacher who loves writing, books, ideas, individuality—and students—not being profoundly disturbed by this.

Computers do some things well. They store and retrieve data. They count. And they do as they are told—and ONLY as they are told. They don’t reason, innovate, surprise us, reflect, connect their own personal history to ours, or seek out new ways of looking at things.

When it comes to writing, they can measure only the most superficial features: e.g., words per sentence, sentences per paragraph or document, letters per word, the number of times a word or phrase is used, the use (or lack thereof) of expressions like first, second, third, finally, in conclusion, to begin with or other “cue” words that too often serve as mechanical impersonators of true organizational structure. They can identify grammatical errors—sometimes. And spelling errors—sometimes. Computers can look for capital letters and periods. But if you think they can tell a complete sentence from a fragment, or offer useful advice on re-crafting a sentence, you haven’t put your so-called “grammar checker” to the test lately. To say nothing of the fact that a computer has NO idea whether anything you’ve written is strategic or accidental. Computers don’t have opinions. They’re not into nuance. They have no ear for beauty, rhythm, or soul. They don’t appreciate humor or ponder mysteries. They don’t get the chills when coming to a passage so touching, so right, so magical that it should be preserved forever.

Imagine the work of people like Hemingway (such short sentences!), Faulkner (such long sentences! and run-ons, too!), e.e. cummings (where are your caps, E.E.?), Mark Twain (why can’t he make these people sound more alike?), or Gary Paulsen (one-sentence paragraphs?? seriously?) being scored by a computer. Computers reduce everyone to the lowest common denominator. They’re incapable of recognizing (much less appreciating) genius. Genius is free-spirited. Genius breaks rules and invents new ones. Do we want our students’ genius labeled as “non-standard”? Worse yet, think about this: Do we want everyone to write in the same way? Sounds like the end of literature as we know it. (Ray Bradbury, who knew we wouldn’t even need the firemen?)

There is a reason behind this insanity, of course. It’s called convenience. Think how simple it is to turn all reading of essays over to machines. No authentic reading required. Whew. What a relief. Unlike human readers, who stop to ponder, reflect, remember, react, tear up, laugh, and feel something, machines simply rip through essays, methodically searching out repetitions, misplacements, incongruities, and omissions, and calculating the numbers of each with lightning speed. And of what value is this information? Why . . . almost none. But collecting it is so easy, so affordable.

We need to ask ourselves an important question: What do we want our students to be capable of doing as writers? We don’t need numbers to answer this. I have only to look at my eight-year-old grandson, who is just beginning to think of himself as a writer. This is a fragile identity, nurtured only through diligent, continuous effort—and easily crushed through careless, hasty, or insensitive assessment. I pray that  won’t happen to Jack. I want him to choose his own topics—including those for research. I want him to understand the nature of research, to know that it goes beyond books, and to enjoy exploring concepts such as the discovery of new planets or plans for rescuing endangered sea turtles or managing trash so it doesn’t clog our oceans. I want him to be a reader, so passionate about it that he can’t bear the thought of finding himself without a book—and so in tune with what he reads that he continually tells himself, “Hey—look what that writer did. I could try that.” I want his vocabulary to grow easily and naturally, through travel, discovery, exploration, conversation, and the drive of his own curiosity. I want him to be a thinker, to know what it means to tell a riveting story or share information people actually need, or to fight (through solid argument) for things he truly believes in—not ideas imposed from without. I want him to know the thrill of moving readers, of holding them right in his hand and having them wish for more. Most of all, I want Jack to have a voice. His own voice. Not the pathetic echo of a machine that insists on some cheap imitation of its blatantly nonhuman self. I don’t believe Jack will need to know—ever—how many sentences he averages per paragraph, or how many multi-syllable words per hundred he uses.

My colleagues and I are old enough to recall how large-scale writing assessment looked back in the good old days of the 1980s. We respected students’ voices then. We loved our work. We looked on every paper as a gift, and received them as such. We took our time reading them, savoring every word, and read many aloud to each other—for our own amusement, in part. But also to remind ourselves what good writing sounds like. Along with the voices of people like Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, Larry McMurtry, Anne Lamott, Dylan Thomas, Isabel Allende, Pablo Neruda, Joyce Carol Oates, Louise Erdich, Sherman Alexie, Garrison Keillor, Kate DiCamillo, Gary Paulsen, and countless others (yes, we actually took time to read aloud to one another in those long-gone times), we shared the voices of student authors who were just beginning their writing adventures. Through their examples—and not from rubrics or standards—we taught ourselves the meaning of riveting voice, precise word choice, fluency that’s downright musical, imagery you can’t get out of your head, and organization that relies on logic, not formula. Students’ voices—each fresh and unique—fed and shaped our six-trait rubrics, not the reverse. It all began with the students.

In one of my favorite essays of all time, an eighth grader wrote about his beloved dog Fox and the pond behind their house where he and Fox reigned supreme, chasing away all intruders and guarding the pond as if it were holy ground. Remarkably, the student wrote the whole piece in dialect, not an easy feat for someone his age. The final page recounts how the writer and his family had to move, and how hard that move was. The essay closes with these words: “Fox and I still visit the pond, but it will never be like them three years when she was mine.” That is a line so perfect that to touch it would be sacrilege. But a computer/assessor will likely look for something more like this: “Fox and I still visit the pond, but it will never be like those three years when the pond was ours.” Oops. There goes the voice. There goes the rhythm. But smart money says the “revision” gets a higher score. And what, for heaven’s sake, matters more than a high score?

For years we’ve been saying that teachers of writing should write—get in the trenches to feel the difficulties of coming up with a topic, getting started, knowing how and when to stop, or how and when to revise. Writers know best whether a piece is working—and if it’s not, what to do about it. Now, apparently, we’re going to abandon that writers-know-best philosophy. Ironically, we’re going to turn the very important job of assessing something as complex as writing over to a machine that cannot think, much less write. Oh, computers can spit back what’s fed in—but that’s hardly the same thing (though it does come dangerously, hideously close to writing by formula).

And so . . . if we let machines that cannot make the music judge the value of the symphony, what happens? What’s the upshot of this decision? First off, we have to bring our capabilities—or more to the point, our students’ capabilities—down to the computer’s level. But that’s not the worst of it—mediocre writing that touches no one’s soul. That would be depressing in and of itself. No, it gets worse. Teachers already complain that many students lack motivation to write. If you think this is a problem now, just wait. How motivated would you be if your only audience were a box that could only recognize you as “input”? And even that’s not the worst of it. By assigning writing assessment to machines, we teach our students that writing is a simplistic, mechanical act, devoid of complexity, design, purpose, and heart. We are asking them to substitute conformity for originality, capitulation for courage. Most insidious of all, we are de-valuing individuality and voice, which is to say, the personal and cultural differences that make each of us unique.

We don’t write, in the end, to dot i’s and cross t’s. Conventional correctness is a means, not an end. We write, as James Baldwin so famously said, to change the world. Writing and reading are a profoundly beautiful dance in which two people work together to create meaning. Why would we not wish to respect something so rare, so extraordinary? If we truly cannot afford to assess writing well, with the time and effort and attention to detail that our young writers deserve, then let’s not do it at all.

Cathy Bernard, Associate Professor of English at the New York Institute of Technology, recently quoted in Marshall Memo 481 (www.marshallmemo.org), put it this way: “On Sunday nights I would rather be anywhere but at my desk facing a stack of student essays. Still, I question the arguments offered in support of automated essay scoring. The chief selling point of electronic assessment is that it gives instant feedback… But writing is not a game in which you click away until you hit on the right answer. Writing is thinking, and revision is a slow process, unpredictable and exploratory. A piece of writing, like a cake taken from the oven, needs some time to cool before the revision process can even begin.”

If you feel strongly about this issue, you may be wondering what you can do. Speak up—to everyone you know. Friends, colleagues, administrators, test developers. Let your voice be heard. To sign a petition protesting machine scoring of student work, please visit http://humanreaders.org

Coming up on Gurus . . .

Look for Part II of Jeff’s review and related classroom work with Paul Fleischman’s amazing book The Matchbox Diary. Next time, Jeff brings us right inside Mr. L’s classroom to show how student writers can take off when inspired to make some pretty cool associations of their own. Remember, for the BEST in writing in-service, featuring traits, standards, writing workshop, process, and literature-based writing lessons, just log in to any computer. WE ARE KIDDING. For the human touch, please phone us at 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.

In Mr. L’s 5th Grade Classroom Part I: Paul Fleischman’s The Matchbox Diary

 

 

 

The Matchbox Diary. 2013. Paul Fleischman. Illustrated by Bagram Ibatoulline. Somerville, MA: Candlewick Press. 40 pp.

Genre: Narrative fiction, picture book

Ages: Grades 2-6

Features: Magnificently detailed illustrations by Bagram Ibatoulline, alternating between soft, rich color and sepia-toned moments, framed like old photos, as the story jumps from the present to the past.    

Summary

Award winning author Paul Fleischman has written so many of  my favorite books to share with students–Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices, Seedfolks, Whirligig, Bull Run, Weslandia, and many more. As I sit at my desk writing this, all I have to do is look around the room to understand why his latest book, The Matchbox Diary called to me the first time I saw it. On my shelves, I’ve got old cigar boxes (wood and cardboard), handmade wooden boxes with ornate metal latches, and sturdy stationery boxes. Each one of these boxes holds items other than their original contents—I’ve lifted the lid on a cardboard box with a magnetic lid closure to peek inside. The box once held cards, blank on the inside with photographs of rural Italy on the outside. Now, its contents rattle and clink—metal campaign buttons, foreign coins, keys on a souvenir keychain from Yellowstone Park. Simply touching the treasures sends my mind time traveling back to places and moments, and the stories each holds. This idea, that the things we hold on to are keepers of our life’s stories, is at the heart of this beautiful book, told solely through dialogue—the conversation of a young girl and her great-grandfather meeting for the first time.

The book begins with the girl and her great-grandfather in a warm, amber-toned room busy with bookshelves, tables, and display cases. And each one of these is filled with books, boxes of all sizes, clocks, and antiques. The opening line is an invitation to the girl (and to readers) to “Pick whatever you like the most,” and he will tell its story. The illustration begs readers to pour over the room and search for the item each likes best. I reached for a magnifying glass (used by my grandfather when he worked with his stamp collection) so I could get a closer view of what the room had to offer. Unlike the girl, I couldn’t make up my mind. She chooses wisely, a cigar box packed neatly with row upon row of matchboxes. The close-up drawing of the box filled with boxes is my favorite. Readers can’t help but linger, looking closely at the logos, designs, and brand names on the matchboxes. (As a younger person, I used to collect matchboxes or matchbooks from restaurants or store giving them away as promotional items.) When the girl asks about what’s in each of the little boxes, great-grandpa replies “My diary.”

As she selects boxes to open, great-grandfather tells her the story of his childhood through the smaller stories that are held by the items in each box. He explains to her that when he was a young boy about her age, he began keeping this diary of objects because he couldn’t read or write. The larger story that unfolds is that of an Italian immigrant family coming to America for a better life. The sepia toned illustrations accompanying the matchbox stories remind readers of looking through an old family photo album. One of the matchboxes holds a bottle cap, a common, everyday object to most readers. But, like the contents of every box, the cap has a story. It comes from Naples, where the storyteller’s family has to stay for three days waiting for their ship to America. So many “firsts” happen here: seeing his first car, discovering drinks that come in bottles, setting eyes on the ocean for the first time. The bottle cap is the gatekeeper to important personal and family memories, like each of the items in his matchbox diary.

 

In the Classroom

1. The Matchbox Diary, Part II—Coming Soon. Rather than our customary sharing of ways to use this book in your classroom, I’m going to do something different.  I’d like to encourage you to read this book yourself, either by purchasing it, borrowing, flipping through it in a bookstore.  My next post will take you through my experience—from beginning to end—of using this inspiring book with Mr. L’s classroom of real fifth grade students from an elementary school near where I live. I’ll take you through the process we used, and I’m hoping to be able to share some of their writing, as well. I’m heading back to Mr. L’s classroom today for my third visit this week. As a former full-time teacher, I can’t tell you how great it feels to be back in the saddle for even an hour a day as a guest teacher.

 

Coming up on Gurus . . .

Vicki will be reviewing Amy Krause Rosenthal’s exciting new book, Exclamation Mark, about how a familiar punctuation mark discovers his purpose. I will also be sharing the process and results from using The Matchbox Diary with a classroom of fifth grade students. (I have been having such an amazing time!!) Thanks for visiting. Come often—and bring friends. Remember, for the BEST workshops blending traits, common core, workshop, and writing process, call us at 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.

 

 

A New Classic . . . Andrea Davis Pinkney’s book Hand in Hand

 

Hand in Hand: Ten Black Men Who Changed America. 2012. Andrea Davis Pinkney. Illustrated by Brian Pinkney. New York: Disney, Jump at the Sun Books. 231 pp. (excluding appended materials)

Genres: Biographical anthology, historic narrative, informational writing 

Ages: Intermediate and middle school

Features: Poetic introductions to each person profiled; striking watercolor portraits (and additional illustrations) by artist Brian Pinkney; exceptionally thorough Index; Source List for further research; Time Line (1731-2009) detailing milestones in black history and the Civil Rights Movement; and a moving and revealing Preface by the author.   

Summary

With his recent post on Steve Sheinkin’s book Bomb, Jeff made this important point: Everything is made up, ultimately, of stories. Certainly this is true of history—and Andrea Pinkney’s masterful Hand in Hand shows just how explosively powerful writing can be when fact and story combine.

Hand in Hand recounts the individual biographies of ten men whose vision and courage changed American history—and the lives of all of us who live here—forever. What makes the book particularly exceptional are the connections from story to story, person to person, that give the book its dramatic momentum. As Pinkney puts it in her Preface (p. 3), “. . . when woven together like a chain, the individual accomplishments of these men link up to tell one story—a story of triumph.”

The ten include Benjamin Banneker, Frederick Douglass, Booker T. Washington, W.E.B. DuBois, A. Philip Randolph, Thurgood Marshall, Jackie Robinson, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Barack H. Obama II. This means that Pinkney’s historic timeline stretches from the early 1700s through the present day—quite a span. Admittedly, the author had a difficult time choosing which men to profile, and an equally challenging time keeping the number to ten. As she explains in the Preface, her collection “could have contained hundreds of stories!” (p. 3) In preliminary discussions with members of a literacy group at the University of Illinois, however, Pinkney noticed that some names kept coming up repeatedly as inspirational, as symbols of racial pride. In listening to the wisdom of others, Pinkney gradually managed to narrow her list. She wanted to keep that list small so that she could “delve into the early lives, influences, and motivations” of each historic figure. There’s an important lesson here for students: Shrink the breadth of the topic and you can go deeper.

Hand in Hand is beautifully organized. The individual biographies are short, averaging about twenty pages, and presented in the order in which the ten men were born. Each opens with a stirring poem, capturing the essence of who a particular figure was and how he influenced others. The author begins with each man’s early years, revealing intriguing information many readers won’t have known previously—e.g., who knew that Thurgood Marshall, our nation’s first African American Supreme Court justice, was originally named “Thoroughgood,” that he was a legendary class cut-up, constantly pulling pranks and making people laugh, or that he was the great grandson of a slave so rebellious he was finally freed because he could not be sold to fearful slave owners.

The book is beautifully illustrated, too. Full-page watercolor portraits by Brian Pinkney are startlingly vibrant, reflecting not just the physical features, but the underlying personality of each figure.

Andrea Davis Pinkney’s book provides an extraordinary beginning point for a study of the Civil Rights Movement and the living forces that drove it. But Hand in Hand offers so much more than that. From her impressive body of research, Pinkney has gleaned for us what is most interesting, most important, or least well known about ten men who made a difference. The resulting book is an homage to people whose lives mattered—and to the very courage required to live such a life. It’s destined to be a classic, and will prove an invaluable resource to anyone who teaches informational writing, history, Civil Rights, or research.   

In the Classroom

1. Previewing the book for yourself. As you preview the book, think about how you want to share it. You might read selected chapters aloud, or choose passages from every chapter, piquing students’ interest to read more on their own. If you plan to ask students to do additional research on some figures, read-alouds can make an excellent springboard for that. Notice that the poems contain a great deal of important information—and tend to be highly personal. Think about how you want to present them. You may wish to read a chapter first, then share the accompanying poem aloud when students can more readily appreciate its full impact. As an alternative, consider sharing hard copies of poems for students to read, reflect upon, discuss with partners, or read aloud to the class.

2. Background. Some figures profiled in Hand in Hand are probably well known to virtually all your students. Others may not be, however. You might begin by sharing the list within the Table of Contents to see which names and achievements are familiar, and to get a sense of how much of their history students know already. Consider posting a list or chart of the ten figures with room for adding details under each one as students discover something new or surprising.

3. The art of detail. The Common Core places great emphasis on the inclusion of detail, whether it’s descriptive detail in a narrative, authentic information in a researched piece (such as this one), or evidence to support an argument. Great details are vivid and noteworthy, interesting—and often surprising. Particularly in informational writing, carefully chosen details teach readers something new.  As you share chapters or passages from Davis Pinkney’s book, ask students, What did you find most interesting? Did anything surprise you? What did you learn that you had never gained from previous reading, discussions, television, or films? Their answers, which you may wish to record in some way (See #2 above), form a great basis for discussing how an author decides which details to share.

 4. Digging deeper. Detail takes many forms: visual description, facts, explanations, observations, quotations, and so on. So it’s helpful to share multiple examples with students, and talk about the various ways details work in writing. Consider the following two passages from the book. What kind of detail do you find in each? (Tip: After discussing these two, ask your students to look for other examples of details used well—drawing from this book or any piece of writing—and talk about the many forms details can take.)

From the chapter titled Thurgood Marshall

In 1951, Thurgood [Marshall] took on a case known as Oliver Brown v. Board of Education in Topeka. The case began when Topeka, Kansas resident Oliver Brown, the daddy of eight-year-old Linda Brown, tried to enroll his daughter at Sumner Elementary, a white school close to their home. (p. 121) Question: What kind of detail is this?

From the chapter titled Barack H. Obama II

Young Barrack had heard so many stories about this larger-than-life man, but just by looking, Barack could see that he was no Superman. His skinny neck poked out from his shirt collar like a protruding pencil. He wore thick glasses. His complexion was black as the skin on a raisin. (p. 208) Question: What kind of detail is this?

5. Common themes. The lives of the ten men portrayed in this book are connected in many ways. One recurring theme is education. What did education mean to various men in this book—and what sacrifices did they have to make to pursue it? Do we tend to value education today as much as these ten men clearly did? Expository Writing: What does it mean to be a literate person in 21^st Century America? Have students write about this from a personal perspective—or take the writing a step further and invite them to interview people who have pursued education in various ways (e.g., through formal education, reading, experience, travel). Is education all about what we learn in school, or do we also have a responsibility to educate ourselves? Other themes: As you continue your reading, ask students to identify other commonalities, other threads that link the lives of these ten men. As you discuss this, be SURE to share the opening poem (p. 1) that introduces the book.

6. Organization. One aspect of organization is limiting the focus of your topic—even when you have a whole book to fill. Another, of course, is deciding in what order to present information to your readers. Ask students to imagine themselves as the author of this or a similar book. With so many stories to tell about civil rights and the achievements of black Americans, how would they decide which stories to include—and in what order to present them? In other words, how does a writer turn a mountain of research into something manageable enough to squeeze between two covers? Once you’ve had a chance to discuss this, share Andrea Davis Pinkney’s own perspective on organizing information (middle of page 3 through middle of page 4) from the Preface. What lessons does Pinkney have to teach us about organizing information efficiently?

7. Voice. How would your students characterize the voice of this book? Is it lively? Pedantic? Authoritative? Curious? Formal or informal? Conversational? Inviting? Serious or humorous? Expository writing: Ask students to write about the nature of voice in Hand in Hand, quoting three or more passages from the book to support their position.

8. Genre. How would your students characterize this book? Is this narrative—or informational writing? Or does it bridge both worlds? Can students cite other writing examples that span more than one genre? Ask them to imagine how it would be to read Pinkney’s book if each chapter contained a list of facts about the person being profiled—and nothing more. No stories, no anecdotes, no descriptive passages. How might this change a reader’s response? Are stories important to our ability to assimilate and recall information? Why?

9. Character—and choices. As the Common Core Standards for Narrative writing remind us, character is defined through choices. On page 66, for example, we learn that W.E.B. DuBois made a choice at an early age to be a reader, spending full days at a local bookstore (while his friends followed other pursuits) and reading books cover to cover—some of which the store’s owner allowed him to take home: “Those history volumes were like a good friend to W.E.B. He read them in the morning. He read them when the afternoon sun stretched its pointy fingers through the branches of Great Barrington’s pine trees . . . He even read them long after his mother told him to snuff his late-night lantern and go to sleep.” How much do we learn about the character of W.E.B. DuBois just from these few lines? Literary Writing: Ask students to choose one character from the book and identify one or more choices that help define who that person is. Ask them to quote from the book in making their case.

10. Literacy—and The “Preamble.” In the Preface, Andrea Davis Pinkney tells us her book was inspired by a group calling themselves “Brother Authors,” whose purpose was to foster literacy among African American boys ages 13 to 18 (page 2). Read aloud the Preamble that the Brother Authors shared with Pinkney when she first visited them at UIC (University of Illinois at Chicago). What would drive people to make such a pledge? How would your students characterize the group’s purpose or mission—and how did they hope to achieve it through writing? Expository Writing: After discussing this, ask students to write a short expository/reflective piece about their own writing. What do they hope to achieve through their own words and their own voice? What impact do they want to have on readers, now or in the future?

11. “Important truths” vs. stereotypes. Read and discuss the thirteen “important truths that affirm the power of black manhood” (pp. 4-5, Preface). How is each of these manifested in the book? Clearly, the lives of the people Andrea Davis Pinkney portrays in Hand in Hand have been a living, breathing argument against stereotypical thinking. But how often must stereotypes be shattered before we let go of them completely? Are stereotypes (of any kind—whether relating to race, ethnicity, age, religion, or other factors) still affecting our thinking and behavior? What damage do stereotypes do? How do they originate, and how do we combat them? Argument Writing: After discussing the nature and impact of stereotypical thinking, ask students to write argument paragraphs in response to one of the following questions (or any question the student poses for him-/herself):

• Which is ultimately stronger—a stereotype or the truth?
• If a person is taught as a child to think in stereotypes, can he/she still overcome this?
• Can one individual effectively combat stereotypical thinking on a personal or social level?
• Is the power of stereotypical thinking declining in America—or in any culture?
• Is stereotypical thinking more damaging to those victimized by it—or to those who practice it?

12. Argument: Room for one more? As noted earlier, Andrea Pinkney discusses (in the Preface) the challenge she faced in narrowing her topic to include just ten biographies. With many names to choose from, it could not have been easy to limit her selection. Was anyone omitted from the book that your students feel strongly should have been included? Argument Writing: Ask them to write a brief argument, making a case for including anyone they feel should definitely not have been left out. Note: Remember the Common Core emphasis on evidence. Opinions are important—but they’re not enough. Students must support their choices with reasons and evidence reflecting a candidate’s character, achievements, or influence.

13. Pushing the boundaries with informational research. What if Andrea Pinkney were to write another book, this time focusing on women who have changed American history. Which African American women would your students wish to see included in such a book? Can you list five—or even ten? You might begin by brainstorming, then do some research to identify names that might not occur to your students initially (e.g., Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Waris Dirie, Sojourner Truth, Rosa Parks, Bessie Coleman, Harriet Tubman, Harriet Jacobs, Wilma Rudolph, Barbara Jordan, Virginia Hamilton, Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni—to name a few). Informational Writing: Have students choose one person to research in depth; then create your own book about African American women (or women of any culture) who have changed America. Don’t feel limited to ten! Tip: This research provides a good opportunity to create one or more wikis, multi-person, online research papers to which several students contribute as they do ongoing research. Wikis can be shared throughout a school or larger community.

14. Design. Talk about the book’s overall design. You might use a document projector to share specific features, such as chapter titles, title pages, Brian Pinkney’s watercolor portraits (as well as other illustrations), and the layout for the book’s recurring poetry. How would you describe the style of the paintings? Are such illustrations a good choice versus, say, photographs? Why? How would photos have influenced the overall tone or feel of the book? Do paintings have a kind of voice—just as writing itself has voice? Ask students to comment on other features they notice, even little things such as the type and size of the fonts chosen, or the use of color. How do these small but important editorial choices affect readers? What about the inclusion of such features as a Source List, Index, or Time Line for major events in black history? How are such features of help to readers? Do your students typically refer to such features in a book they read? Why or why not?

15. A philosophical question. This is a book about people who dramatically changed the course of our nation’s history. What does it take to change history? Is it something within a person—or does opportunity play a role? Talk and/or write about this.

16. A different kind of beginning. As we learn from the Common Core Standards, a good beginning in informational writing sets up the discussion that follows. Does the Preface serve that introductory purpose in this book? Have your students ever considered including a Preface or formal Introduction (Foreword) in any of their own writing? When are such features most appropriate?

17. Language. How would your students describe the language in Hand in Hand? Consider this passage from the chapter on Jackie Robinson:

Every time they called him a degrading name, he grew more determined. When the curse words flew, he smacked the pitcher’s ball with his baseball bat harder than hard—knocked the jelly out of that doughnut—and rounded the bases to home, where he quietly took in the victory of another run. Jackie ate words of prejudice like they were mounds of spinach. The insults were bitter, but they made him stronger! (p. 135)

Is this language more formal—or informal? Which words or expressions lean more toward the informal? Tip: Try revising this passage so that the language is very formal throughout. Then read both versions aloud. Is anything lost in the revision? If so, what? Is there value to conversational language even in informational writing? How many of your students prefer it?

18. Tracing connections through personal narrative. Rachel Robinson, widow of baseball legend Jackie Robinson, was interviewed recently on the television show Sunday Morning (CBS, April 7, 2013). When asked whether we could trace a connection, a thread, from Jackie Robinson to Martin Luther King, Jr. to Barack Obama, she said, “We can’t say that what Jack did put Obama in office, no. But these things are connected. These lives are connected.” Discuss this with your students. How are the lives of people like Jackie Robinson, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Barack Obama “connected”? How does each person’s contribution to the world build on the contributions of those who have gone before? Narrative Writing: Ask students to write personal narratives that trace the thread of their own lives, connecting who they are now to the people who have influenced them and shaped their character or beliefs. Those people might include family members, friends, teachers, or famous figures. Tip: Like Andrea Davis Pinkney, dig deep! Encourage students to look back in time—as far as possible. An important lesson this book teaches is that the lives and words of previous generations continue to inspire us.

 

Coming up on Gurus . . .

Jeff will be reviewing a fascinating picture book, The Matchbox Diary by Paul Fleischman. This is a most unusual book, one Jeff is previewing with students this week. You won’t want to miss his write-up and classroom suggestions. Thanks for visiting. Come often—and bring friends. Remember, for the BEST workshops blending traits, common core, workshop, and writing process, call us at 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.

 

Steve Sheinkin’s Bomb: The Race to Build–and Steal–the World’s Most Dangerous Weapon

Bomb: The Race to Build-and Steal-the World’s Most Dangerous Weapon. 2012. Steve Sheinkin. New York: Roaring Book Press.

Genre: Informational chapter book

Grade Levels: 5 and up

Features: Historic information; vintage photos, letters; resource list for further research; source notes; quotation notes; index.

266 pages (including end matter)

Summary

Steve Sheinkin is a writer of many talents. He knows how to write award-winning books. Bomb: The Race to Build-and Steal-the World’s Most Dangerous Weapon, and The Notorious Benedict Arnold: A True Story of Adventure, Heroism, & Treachery, have earned high praise and honors—National Book Award Finalist, Newberry Honor, to just begin the list.  And he also knows how to title his books to make them practically leap off the “shelf” into the hands of anxious readers. Whether you prefer to access books electronically or traditionally, you know, old school with bound paper pages, Mr. Sheinkin’s titles alone are enough to entice readers to grab or click and jump in. (More to come below on titles.) That’s no small skill for an author of non-fiction histories. This is especially true in light of the Common Core State Standards pushing teachers and students towards more informational reading and writing.

For many student readers, informational reading, especially in history, is a turn-off (I won’t use the word boring, a word that was banned from our house to keep our son from using it as a crutch). For many teachers and students, their experiences with informational texts and textbooks have been less than positive—dry, encyclopedic mounds of lifeless facts, dates, places, etc.  Author Sheinkin, in his bio on Bomb’s slip cover, after admitting to being a former textbook writer, states his intention to “dedicate his life to making up for previous crimes by crafting gripping narratives of American history.” Fortunately for teachers and students, he is doing just that. His recent book, Bomb, delivers on all fronts–an exciting title and a well crafted, informative, and engagingly “gripping narrative” history.

What Mr. Sheinkin understands is the importance of story. Cognitive scientist Mark Turner explains in his 1996 book The Literary Mind, “Narrative imagining—story—is the fundamental instrument of thought…It is our chief means of looking into the future, of predicting, of planning, of explaining.” History is stories. Science is stories. Mathematics is stories. In A Whole New Mind (2005), Daniel Pink emphasizes it this way, “Stories are easier to remember—because in many ways, stories are how we remember.” I think educators have to be careful to avoid pitting narrative writing against informational writing, or reading works of fiction against non-fiction content. I don’t see them as being separate and discrete elements of literacy. Stories provide the context to determine the value of information, to sort, categorize, and remember. What do classroom teachers do then, to make sense of the CCSS emphasis on informational/expository reading and writing?  Strike a balance. Don’t abandon one to serve the other. Help students to access reading that is motivating to help them develop the desire and the tenacity to tackle content—narrative and informational—that may be more complex. Continue teaching, practicing, and building skill in narrative writing because of its connections to building skill in informational, expository, and persuasive writing. Adopting the CCSS does not mean scrapping common sense. (To learn more about the value of narrative writing, including some myth busting, be sure to check out Vicki’s post from June 25, 2012, Dissecting and Defending Narrative Writing via the Common Core.)

So how does Steve Sheinkin begin his thrilling history—from discovery to deployment—of the atomic bomb? With the story, of course! And what a story it is! Scientists (Robert Oppenheimer, Albert Einstein), spies, double agents, secret governmental agencies, super secret missions, world leaders (Joseph Stalin, Adolph Hitler), American presidents (Franklin Roosevelt, Harry S. Truman), plots and counter plots, and more! This book is a history lesson, well researched, complete with all the names, dates, events, and locations told with a storyteller’s eye and ear for detail and audience.

In the Classroom

1. Reading. As always, take time to preview and read the book prior to sharing or involving students in independent reading. You could select chapters or passages to share aloud to build excitement for independent reading or make connections to supplement a history text. If you plan to use this as a complete read-aloud or a book study where each student has a copy—and it would work well for either, I would recommend devoting a flip-chart page or part of a bulletin board to helping students keep track of all the important figures. There are a lot of “characters.” You could even keep three charts—one to follow the American development of the bomb, one for the Russian efforts to steal the bomb’s technology, and one for the people involved in sabotaging the German scientists attempting to build a bomb for their side. I would involve students in researching/finding images of each player to copy and post on the charts. This could be done as a hierarchical organizational chart to show the connections between each person, government, or agency. There are b/w photos of the key figures, included at the beginning of each of the book’s four sections. Each photo includes the subject’s name and brief identifying information—e.g. Harry Truman U.S. President 1945-1953. These could be shown to students using a document camera and serve as models for the students during their research.

2. Historic background. What do your students know about World War II—the leaders and countries involved, how the U.S. became involved, or how it ended? Is it an area of interest for any of them? Do any of them have relatives who fought or were involved in the war? The level of background information may, of course, depend on the age/grade of your students. They don’t need to know everything—this isn’t a complete history of the war—but a few key details will help students understand the urgency felt by the United States to direct and affect the war’s outcome. Science, especially physics and chemistry, is at the heart of this story. Are some of your students interested in a specific area of science? What do they know about the study of physics or chemistry? You don’t have to be a physicist or chemist, but you can be a guide to helping them find out what scientists in these fields do. This may help them begin to look for answers to the question—How does a college physics professor in Berkeley, California, end up working on a top secret project to develop the weapon that will be used to end World War II and change the world for all of us?

3. Images/Stereotypes. Popular culture, especially television and movies, has often guided our images of science and scientists and even the role of science in our world. The Nutty Professor, The Absent Minded Professor, Frankenstein, Gilligan’s Island, Bill Nye The Science Guy, and more recently, The Big Bang Theory, Ironman, CSI, Bones, and Breaking Bad. What are your students’ images of science/scientists? The nerdy or evil genius? The oddball crackpot? The suave jetsetter with the cool toys? The shy lab rat in the white coat? Have any of these stereotypes affected their interest in science? What are your students’ experiences with stereotypes each day at school?

4. Details/Purpose/Audience. One of the most striking things about Steve Sheinkin’s book is how much readers learn about physics and chemistry without being overwhelmed with theories, laws, processes, and terminology. I wouldn’t call it “Science Lite”—the author is not dumbing anything down for readers. He has chosen a level of detail that matches his purpose for writing, and his awareness of his audience. Discuss the concept of audience with your students. Why is it important, as a writer, to know and write for your audience? Who was the last audience they may have written for? How did that knowledge affect their writing (pre-writing, research, narrowing of topic, etc.)?

5. Becoming an “Expert.” Take a moment to discuss with your students how they as readers know when writers are experts on their topics. What happens to readers when they are in the hands of an expert? Are they able to tell when writers are faking it or stretching their limited knowledge too thin? What happens to readers when they discover the writer is posing as an expert? Spend some time with your students looking at the Source Notes, Quotation Notes, and Acknowledgments sections at the back of the book. What do these sections suggest to students about the expertise of Steve Sheinkin? This would also be a good time to talk about the differences between primary and secondary sources. Why is it important in a book like this to seek out so many primary sources?

6. Book Titles and Grabbing the Audience. I mentioned earlier that one of the author’s skills was the way his books are titled. How does a book’s title demonstrate the author’s audience awareness? Do titles make a difference in a book’s initial appeal? (What if Louis Sachar’s award winning book, Holes, had been titled Some Kids in the Desert With Shovels?) Are titles important to readers? How do they help our minds begin to ask questions, make predictions, or know what to focus on? Have your students identify what they see as the key words (words that grabbed their interest/attention) in the title, Bomb: The Race to Build—and Steal—the World’s Most Dangerous Weapon. I recently asked a sixth grade student I’m working with to do just this before knowing anything else about the direction of the book.  She highlighted bomb, race, steal, and dangerous. She then made a prediction about the book focused on the words race and steal. This student thought that the race could be against time and/or against others. The word steal made her think that race was “…so important that someone would cheat in a very sneaky way to win.” This is a kind of concept formation practice—setting our thinking in motion prior to reading.

7. Organization. Ask your students to describe the overall organizational pattern of the book. Yes, it’s chronological, but there’s more to it than that. There’s a prologue, epilogue, and four main parts dividing the chapters. The author has chosen to begin his story at the end, with the arrest of Harry Gold, an American man the Soviets were using as a spy. How does this choice create interest for readers? What questions does it spark in the minds of curious readers? You could have your students begin a timeline with Harry Gold’s arrest in 1950, knowing they will have to jump back in time as the rest of the story begins to unfold in the first chapter. It is 1934 when readers meet young scientist Robert Oppenheimer in the book’s first chapter. The timeline and organizational chart suggested earlier could be added to as the story progresses. Students could not only keep track of the “characters” but how they are involved in the events of the story.

8. Voice. How would your students describe the voice of this book? Is it encyclopedic? The voice of a history professor lecturing to students? The voice of a scientist speaking to colleagues?  Passionate? Knowledgeable? Biased? Professional? Come up with your own list of words—and discuss the kind of voice you (and they) feel is appropriate or effective in an informational piece. Is there a connection between finding that appropriate/effective voice and being an expert on your topic?

9. Sentence Fluency/Dialogue/Voice. As a writer, if you are going to tell an exciting story filled with characters, from heroic to villainous, you need to have these characters interacting through dialogue. Readers will feel more involved with your story and connected with your characters. But what if your story is about a real historical event involving real people? How do we know what historical figures said to one another? Bomb is filled with dialogue between scientists, spies, generals, soldiers, and presidents. So what did Steve Sheinkin do to get his “characters” talking? Research! And lots of it! Check out the Quotation Notes section to help students understand, again, the importance of the writer as topic expert. Have students take roles and read sections aloud (try the Prologue) to see, hear, and feel how the dialogue helps readers identify, understand, and connect to each character. Is it appropriate to approximate, after extensive research, what historical figures might have said in various situations, if no actual record exists? What is the difference between historical writing and historical fiction?

10. Modern Devices/Secret Codes. A great deal of Bomb’s story is about communication—face to face, in letters, radio transmissions, coded notes, etc. Today’s students are used to communicating instantly with a variety of personal electronic devices and through various forms of social media (My old man is showing, but I’m uneasy with using the word social when a great deal of this type of interaction is not about meeting people face to face.) How many of your students have written/received actual letters? What is the difference, in their minds, between receiving a text and a letter? What is their preferred method of communicating with friends? Parents? How would the use of modern communication devices—computers, email, cell phones, etc.—have altered the events of Bomb? Are secrets harder to keep now? Are people, in general, less private? The spies in the book communicated through coded messages. Have any of your students ever developed or used their own secret code? (Some of your students might be interested in researching the Navajo code talkers used during World War II.)

11. Argument. Engage your students in discussion and writing about one or more of the topics below (or generate some of your own). Discussion is a great form of pre-writing and will help suggest the level of research needed to become “experts” as they begin writing.

•        The role of science in our world today
•        How the development and deployment of the atomic bomb changed the world
•        Nuclear weapon technology is crucial to national security
•        Other ideas _______________

 

12. Other Models. The more students are exposed to lively informational writing, grounded in story (narrative), the easier it will be for them to write in a similar fashion. Narrative writing is more than beginning, middle, and end. Informational writing is about more than a mountain of information. Besides books like Bomb, one of my favorite sources/resources for this blend of narrative informational writing is National Geographic magazine. Each issue is filled great with writing and, as a bonus, amazing photography. The April 2013 issue, for example, has a thought-provoking article about the scientific possibilities and environmental implications of de-extinction—reviving currently extinct species. The article is exciting science and history, and it’s a model of the kind of informational writing that begs to be read.

 

To find out more about Steve Sheinkin and his books, visit stevesheinkin.com

 

Coming up on Gurus . . . 
Vicki reviews Andrea Pinkney’s Hand in Hand: Ten Black Men Who Changed America. Drop by any time to see what’s new or mine our archive for some gold you may have missed. Thanks for visiting. Come often—and bring friends. Remember, for the BEST workshops blending traits, common core, workshop, and writing process, call us at 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.

Teaching Conventions in Prep for the Common Core Standards

     

Conventions are BIG in the Common Core
Get ready. Conventions receive significant emphasis within the Common Core Standards, and are likely to play a major role in upcoming assessments relating to those standards. Students will not only need to be in conventional control of their own writing, but will also need to be proficient editors of any text we might throw at them. How do we get them there? Order more red pens? Maybe not . . .

Correcting ALL Errors: NOT the Best Choice
Chances are, you can look back on your own experience as a student (particularly if you’re over 30), and recall the old-school approach to “teaching” conventions: elaborate, meticulous red-penning of errors. If you’ve ever been subjected to this approach, you can probably recall how it felt—and how enthusiastic it made you feel about writing. Granted, there are those exceptional students out there who not only take time to correct every single error, but also look up all pertinent rules for future reference—using those well-worn handbooks they keep by their beds. Hm . . . right. Most of us have never met these wonder students, yet their legend lives on. And the red ink keeps flowing. Why? Well, think about it: This was the approach modeled for most of us. Many teachers (even those who question the value of error hunts) simply don’t know what else to do. Unfortunately, despite the incredible amount of time and effort required, line by line correction (unless specifically requested by the writer) almost never pays off. Here’s why:

1. It creates a sense of hopelessness among students who struggle with conventions. Getting this sort of response to one’s writing is like having strangers walk into your house and begin remodeling. What can be perceived as a kind of assault may trigger hurtfulness, resentment, indifference—or alienation. The odds of an over-marked paper surviving a trip past the nearest trash can are small indeed. Of course, if you have a student who is conventionally skilled (a natural born editor), and you mark one kind of error—say, use of quotation marks—that student may actually welcome your suggestions. But the student who struggles with spelling, grammar, capitals, punctuation, and paragraphing cannot possibly absorb the 20 or more “suggestions” his or her paper calls for. A student who feels overwhelmed is likely to think, “I can’t write,” and just give up.

2. It isn’t enough. Correcting is not teaching, and we kid ourselves when we assume it is. Students learn next to nothing from simple, quick corrections that lack any explanation or suggestion of how to approach editing differently next time. “How many times do I need to correct this error?” I hear teachers ask. The answer? Every time it appears—forever. Do you want to sign up for that? If not, be a teacher, not an editor. Writers (even professionals) who are given a choice quickly become dependent on editors, and have little incentive to notice, learn about, or correct mistakes the editor will fix anyway.

3. Once you identify errors, the hard part is done. The ONLY way students become proficient with conventions is by doing their own editing and developing what Jeff and I call “an editor’s eye.” This refers to the ability to spot things like a misspelled word or missing word or letter, misused or omitted punctuation, faulty subject-verb connection, and so forth. Developing such an eye takes a lifetime of practice. That’s why it’s difficult to find any publication (novels, newspapers, textbooks, whatever) that’s error-free. Each time you do the identifying for your students, you rob them of one more opportunity to practice developing that editor’s eye that is critical to conventional proficiency.

4. It’s too time consuming. You don’t have time to be an editor for 30 to 180 students. The time you spend correcting would be much better spent developing editing lessons or searching literature for models you can use to teach excellent use of conventions. And most important of all . . .

5. It doesn’t work. It just doesn’t. In fact, research (See George Hillocks, The Testing Trap, 2002; Hillocks, Research on Written Composition, 1985; Vicki Spandel, Creating Writers 6/e, 2013; Carl Nagin and the National Writing Project, Because Writing Matters, 2003; Jeff Anderson, Mechanically Inclined, 2005) indicates overwhelmingly that students subjected to extensive marking of errors may actually decline in editorial skill. We cannot afford to have that happen.

So—What DOES Work?
Many things. Here we offer just 12 suggestions to help you turn your students into confident, capable editors. (And by the way, no guilt trips allowed. When you stop correcting everything, you are NOT showing that you don’t care about conventions. On the contrary. You are shifting your focus from errors to students. You are showing that churning out perfect copy is a lower priority than coaching your students to become strong, independent editors—like you.)

Suggestion 1
Explore the “why” behind conventions. An easy way to do this is by removing all punctuation and spacing from a piece of text, and ignoring rules of spelling and grammar. See how long it takes your students to decode a piece like this:

wunspOntimwewEhadverfueroolsguverninhoWpeeplroteaNdthesecdmadreddingdfcult

Can you decipher it? Of course. You’re a teacher. You can read anything, right? But imagine if everything you read were written this way. Reading would be quite a chore. The very term “conventions” implies the conventional, traditional, or accepted way of doing things. Good writers break rules all the time. But following most traditions most of the time (e.g., writing left to right, putting spaces between words) makes reading easier. In a very real sense, editing is a courtesy. You make your text comfortable for readers just as you might make your home comfortable for guests.

Suggestion 2
Develop a routine. Editing and writing are related (like swimming and diving), but are NOT the same skill, and teaching one will not necessarily increase proficiency in the other. Instructional time must be devoted to editing per se. But—isn’t it enough to have students edit what they write? No. It sounds like a good plan, but unfortunately, most students don’t write anywhere near enough text to become proficient editors simply by correcting their own work—even if they do so regularly and carefully. In addition, they need daily practice editing text that is not their own. This is important for a couple of reasons: (1) as just noted, it extends editing practice, and (2) we are all much more ruthless when attacking something we ourselves did not write. Remember the words of H. G. Wells, who reminded us that “no passion on earth is equal to the passion to alter someone else’s draft.”

Take advantage of this impulse. Give students “someone else’s draft” to work on (preferably an anonymous someone, not another student from your class). Keep the practice short: about 50-100 words of text (depending on students’ age), not overloaded with errors (See Suggestion 4 for guidelines on this). Create lessons students can finish in ten minutes or less. Double space copy so students have ROOM to edit; or, if possible, put editing lessons right on the computer. And don’t be seduced by those speedy one-sentence “daily” lessons; they’re far too short, and most are irrelevant to students’ current editing needs—which means, in a nutshell, that students will tune out.

Suggestion 3
Identify problems your students are having right now. Why spend time on capitals if everyone has this nailed? Focus on trouble spots. You can identify problems by skimming through a stack of your own students’ papers and creating for yourself a list of 10 (very manageable), 15 (still do-able), or 20 (that’s plenty) of the most frequently recurring errors. Zero in on those.

Note: Andrea Lunsford, Professor of English at Stanford University, has identified the 20 most common kinds of errors in English writing (see Easy Writer, 3rd edition, 2009). Find Lunsford’s book if you can; or look up her list by searching under “20 most common errors in English.” This kind of focused instruction will benefit your students far more than 60 random lessons developed by someone who doesn’t know your students and has never looked at their writing. (Suggestion: If you work with older writers—say, grades 6 and up—share the list itself with them, too.)

Suggestion 4
Develop your own focused editing lessons. That way, you can zero in on one sort of problem at a time—such as subject-verb agreement. Each lesson should include two parts. The first is instruction in the concept: What IS subject-verb agreement, and what does it look like when it’s done right? Provide several examples. The second part involves practice, a chance for students to apply what they’ve just learned in editing faulty text. Such text (again, think 50 to 100 words) should contain at least three (and for older students, as many as ten or more) errors relating to the concept at hand. (The paragraph you just read is 103 words long, not counting this sentence.)

Following direct instruction in the concept, give students a few minutes to edit the faulty text on their own—then a minute or two to check with a partner to see if any errors were missed. At this point, I like to tell students how many errors they are looking for. Students who have found, say, five out of ten have a reason to go back for another look. When everyone has finished (remember, keep the time short), ask students to coach you as you edit the piece on a Smart board or document projector. Provide this kind of practice as often as you can possibly fit it in. You will see a marked difference in students’ editing skills.

Sources for lessons: By the way, ready-to-go editing lessons ARE available (Check the end of this post), or you can write your own—from scratch, or based on newspaper articles, online articles, junk mail, or other everyday print sources.

Question: What happens when students have had practice with ALL the recurring errors you’ve identified for the class? Answer: Create new editing lessons based on additional problems you’ve identified, or lessons that combine several kinds of errors—with two or three of each kind. You might also have students take turns designing editing lessons, and leading the discussion that follows.

Suggestion 5
Pull anonymous problem sentences from students’ current writing. As you review students’ work, pull out a sentence (or more than one) that seems representative of problems several or more students are having. Share these sentences on the board. This is an excellent way to kick off a writing class, and takes about five minutes. (Let students know you plan to do this, so you know they feel comfortable having their writing shared in this way—you need not use names.)

Ask students to confer with partners about what they notice, then coach you as you edit each sentence. Be sure to let them know if they miss anything. As a teacher, I found this strategy extremely effective because—somewhat to my surprise, I confess—students waited eagerly at the beginning of each class to see if their writing would be chosen as an instructional model. I was very concerned about not making anyone feel picked on, but I needn’t have worried. No one to my knowledge ever felt self-conscious in the least. What did happen, however, was a dramatically heightened interest in every lesson because the examples were coming from them. This was perceived as real, immediate, useful information because it was personal—and current.

Suggestion 6
Look to literature. In the 1800s and far into the 1900s for that matter, many teachers began their instruction in conventions by sharing a rule—often stated in language no one could understand. No wonder most rules were never internalized, and those that were, were quickly forgotten. But, we’ve come a long way, baby. We know now that one of the best ways to teach conventions is the same way we teach voice, ideas, fluency, word choice—or any trait: through literary examples.

Here are just a few, and they’re diverse. Normally, when you’re teaching one convention—say the use of semicolons or dashes—you’ll want several examples because there are nuances of usage that rules simply don’t cover. You might collect three sentences containing semicolons, for example. Share them aloud, one at a time, but also write them out. Then discuss them. As you do so, the question to ask students is this: What difference does this [convention] make? Open-ended discussion encourages students to look and listen closely, to do their own inductive reasoning, and to come up with rules or guidelines or possibilities for themselves. (My “what to notice” notes in this section are only for clarification. I don’t share my reason for choosing a particular example at first because I want students to tell me what they notice.)

• If you don’t have a copy of The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame, consider getting one. Grahame is particularly adept at using conventions with precision, style, grace, and creativity, and you can find an example of just about anything in the world of conventions that you’d like to teach—like semicolons (which can be hard to find in current lit). In this example, Mole (who’s just overturned a boat in the river), is being rescued by Rat, who offers Mole shelter in his home: “It’s very plain and rough, you know—not like Toad’s house at all—but you haven’t seen that yet; still, I can make you comfortable” (Ariel, 1980, p. 15). What to notice: Two distinct clauses are closely aligned, “joining hands” we might say, via the semicolon. Would a period work as well?

• In The Good, Good Pig, author Sy Montgomery uses semicolons in a totally different way [Christopher, by the way, is a pig]: “We lined up to face the camera in ascending seniority: Christopher, age one; me, thirty-three; Liz, sixty; Lorna, ninety-three” (Random House, 2007, p. 64). What to notice: Semicolons provide a nifty way to handle a complex series in which too many commas could create confusion.

• In this passage from Hatchet (20th Anniversary Edition) by Gary Paulsen, the hero Brian (who is beyond hungry), is watching a kingfisher go after a meal. Think about how the ellipses at the very end affect you: “Of course, he thought. There were fish in the lake and they were food. And if a bird could do it . . .” (Simon & Schuster, 2007, p. 108). What to notice: The ellipses give us time to enjoy the same aha moment Brian is experiencing, to fill in the blank, as it were: If a bird can do it . . . maybe I can, too.

• In Mockingbird, author Kathryn Erskine uses conventions in extraordinary ways to show how Caitlin, who has Asperger’s Syndrome, responds to the world: “I don’t like very outgoing. Or efFUSive. Or EXtroverted. Or greGARious. Or any of those words that mean their loudness fills up my ears and hurts and their face and waving arms invade my Personal Space and their constant talking sucks all the air out of the room until I think I’m going to choke” (Philomel, 2010, p. 44). What to notice: Creative use of italics and unexpected capitals helps us get inside Caitlin’s head.

• The humble hyphen is useful in two-part words (like that one) or for splitting multi-syllable words at the end of a line. But perhaps it has more creative uses, as in this passage from Navigating Early by Clare Vanderpool—in which one of the main characters, Jack, is wondering just how strange his new acquaintance Early Auden might be: “Was he straitjacket strange or just go-off-by-yourself-at-recess-and-put-bugs-in-your-nose strange? I knew a kid who used to do that in second grade” (Delacorte, 2013, p. 28). What to notice: Hyphens can help a writer create unique adjectives that put some pretty vivid images in readers’ minds.

You don’t want to do all the digging, of course. After sharing a few examples, have students find their own—and present them to the class. As you collect moments that capture your attention, you’ll discover together that conventions are not all (or even mostly) about rules. They’re tools that allow us to share both message and voice in memorable ways.

Suggestion 7
Give students room to breathe. If we wait—three days seems about ideal—from the time we write a draft until the time we attempt to edit that draft, our ability to spot errors is heightened noticeably. Almost no one (not even skilled, experienced editors) can do his or her best editing immediately after writing. (Writing assessment developers, please take note.) That’s because the message we wanted to put on the paper, meant to put on the paper, is fixed in our minds—and we tend to “read” what’s in our heads, not what found its way to the page. When editing our own work, we also tend to read rapidly, and in so doing, skim right over missing words, misspelled words, faulty punctuation, and the rest. Allowing time between drafts creates perspective so that we see our work more the way an objective, critical reader would see it. We literally create the illusion that it belongs to someone else.

Suggestion 8
Keep it real. Students for whom editing does not come easily may feel very nervous about writing five pages if they anticipate having to edit every line. While I am a huge advocate of making students responsible for their own editing, I also agree that we need to find ways to make the task manageable for students who dread it. After all, we want them to write more, not less.

You can ask a student to edit just the first paragraph or two with extreme diligence—then give more of a once-over to the remainder. (The amount the student edits with close-up care can and should expand with time.) A similar approach is to ask the student to look only for particular kinds of errors—preferably those you have already focused on in your editing lessons (See Suggestions 3, 4, and 5).

Many students benefit from having a teacher mark (with a check, star, etc.) those lines in which errors appear (some teachers use a number to show how many errors a given line contains). No need to mark every line. Use your judgment in determining how much the student can handle—and think about which errors should receive priority.

A conventions conference can be helpful, and it need not take long. Go over one or two errors you think deserve the most attention—perhaps those that come up more than once in the paper. Have the student correct one example as you coach, then attempt to find other similar errors on his or her own.

For students who wrestle with spelling (for many, this is the most significant problem and the source of most errors), provide a mini dictionary on a large Post-It® note, and attach it right to the first page of the rough. As an alternative, keep a running list of frequently misspelled words for your students (not a prescribed list, but one that’s personal for your class), and post it where everyone can see as they write. Add new words as the need arises; remove words students have conquered.

And of course, provide access to dictionaries, thesauruses, and other materials writers and editors use in the real world. Note: Unfortunately, many writing assessments still do not permit such access. Some people, evidence and common sense to the contrary, fear that the mere presence of a dictionary can somehow transform a struggling writer into a best-selling author. If only it were that simple.

Suggestion 9
If technology is available, use it! It’s no secret that revision and editing are far easier and faster when you have access to word processing. A student can create multiple word processed revisions in the time it takes to tediously recopy one draft by hand. Further, the ability to make big and continual changes in a draft (e.g., moving copy, perhaps more than once, deleting or adding text, trying several different leads or endings) means that a word processed document winds up mirroring the writer’s thinking more closely than a handwritten, one-time revision ever could. Technology also allows for last-minute changes (oh—just thought of a different word, got a better title) that someone writing longhand just won’t trouble to make. Comfort with word processing is particularly important given that (based on current best guesses) assessments pertaining to the Common Core writing standards will be administered on computer.

Suggestion 10
Encourage students to edit with their ears, not just their eyes. Do your students read everything they write aloud? If not, this is a good habit to instill—the sooner the better. Reading aloud sloooooooooowwwwwwwws us dooooooooooowwwwwwwwwn, increasing the likelihood we’ll spot problems. It’s also harder to skip right over repeated or missing words (and similar errors) when reading aloud. Further, moments that sound awkward when read aloud will probably slow a silent reader down, too. As students gain sophistication, reading aloud helps them hear places where specific punctuation (e.g., ellipses, dashes), italics, FULL CAPITALS or other conventions of emphasis might bring out the voice in a piece.

Suggestion 11
Get a good handbook. You need an “authority” for your classroom, a book to turn to when you cannot answer that question about commas or citing sources. No one remembers everything. You might consider—

• The Write Source College Handbook by Dave Kemper and Patrick Sebranek (other grade-specific handbooks are available from these authors, but I happen to prefer the college edition, even for younger students)
• The Chicago Style Manual (the most respected source out there—and most complete by far)
• MLA Handbook, 7th edition (some portions are also available online)

Teach students to use whatever resource you settle on, and when a question arises, have one of your students search for the answer, even if this takes a little time. If you have two copies in your classroom, students can do this competitively, which makes the search considerably livelier—and students who help the class in this way are learning a skill they will use for life.
Other resources provide suggestions for writing that go beyond what you’ll find in even the best handbooks—and they’re often entertaining too, so you can choose passages to read aloud. Here are a handful of my favorites (Every single one of these is fun to read):

• Room to Write by Bonnie Goldberg
• Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
• Words Fail Me AND Woe Is I by Patricia T. O’Conner
• Writing Toward Home by Georgia Heard
• On Writing Well (30th Anniversary Edition) by William Zinsser
• Writing Tools by Roy Peter Clark
• Sin and Syntax by Constance Hale
• Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynne Truss
• What a Writer Needs by Ralph Fletcher
• A Writer Teaches Writing by Donald Murray
• Crafting Authentic Voice by Tom Romano

Suggestion 12
Celebrate! When students do something that is conventionally correct or (better still) creative, celebrate! That’s the ideal time to make a mark on the paper—and share the example with the class, too. Expand everyone’s thinking about what conventions can do and be.

Notice content and voice first. Students are far more excited about tackling editing when they feel certain they have a reader’s attention and have written something worth editing in the first place.

Have students collect examples of conventional creativity. Create a class Podcast featuring these examples, or make a bulletin board display. Help students see how much fun conventions can be.

Look beyond writing. What conventions are important in math, for example? How about music? Physics? Chemistry? Do you have any bilingual students in your class? They may be willing to share conventions from another language and talk about how they differ from those in English.

Celebrate conventional evolution. There’s nothing stagnant about English; it changes hourly! Split infinitives? Commonplace! They actually precede Shakespeare (who is reported to have used a few). Dickens apparently favored sentences that began with “And” or “But” (and I’m happy to know this since I like them, too). Snuck is becoming an accepted form of sneaked (though not in all circles, admittedly). Words like dis, chill, creds, phat, and bling weren’t even words (at least not in the modern sense) until recently, but they’re finding their way into Webster’s. For numerous other examples of English on the move, check out the fascinating Origins of the Specious by Patricia T. O’Conner, a brilliantly researched and very funny book you will enjoy sharing (one selected passage at a time) with your students. Then talk about which conventions will last (Is the semicolon doomed? Are dashes enjoying a renaissance?), and why our amazing language is ever-evolving—and expanding.

Looking for editing lessons?
Check these NEW resources we designed with YOU, the classroom teacher, in mind . . .

Creating Writers, 6th edition, by Vicki Spandel. This newly released edition will help you teach conventions with confidence and flair. It includes numerous lesson ideas, recommended handbooks, and other resources to help you bring conventions and presentation to life in your classroom. Connections to the Common Core Standards included. Find it at http://www.pearsonhighered.com/Spandel6e

The Write Traits Classroom Kits ©2010 by Vicki Spandel and Jeff Hicks. These NEW edition kits are closely aligned with the Common Core Standards, and feature ready-to-go lessons that will make teaching conventions & presentation a breeze. Students love these lessons—you will, too. The kits are available for grades K through 8. To order or preview copies, please go to the following web address:

http://www.hmheducation.com/write-traits/.

Here you can preview the kits (through 13 videos featuring Jeff and Vicki), download a comprehensive brochure, download articles on assessment, writing process or the Common Core, or order grade specific kits (Just go to the Home page, and click on the red order button.) Note: For the closest connection to the Common Core, be sure that your search takes you to the NEW Houghton Mifflin Harcourt home page for the kits, featuring our revised, Common Core aligned 2010 edition.

Coming up on Gurus . . .
Jeff reviews the remarkable historic narrative Bomb, a Newbery Honor book by Steve Sheinkin. Not many informational books can also claim to be thrillers. You won’t want to miss it. Thank you for stopping by, and as always, we hope you will come often and bring friends. Please remember . . . to book your own writing workshop featuring the 6 traits, Common Core Standards, writing process and workshop, and the latest and greatest in young people’s literature, give us a call: 503-579-3034. Meantime . . . Give every child a voice.

A New Classic: Wonder

Wonder. 2012. R. J. Palacio. New York: Random House. 310 pp. (excluding Appendix)
Genre: Young adult novel
Ages: Grades 4 and up.

Summary

“I think the only person in the world who realizes how ordinary I am is me.” So says 10-year old August (Auggie) Pullman, who longs to be ordinary in the most basic sense: He wants to blend in. He wants other ordinary kids to look at him and not “run away screaming” (p. 3). Is that too much to ask?

Auggie is ordinary in some ways: he loves ice cream, sports, and video games. He loves his family and his dog Daisy. There’s just one problem. Auggie was born with a facial deformity so severe that even after twenty-seven reconstructive surgeries, people find it hard to look at him without turning away. Can anyone (save his immediate family) get beyond Auggie’s appearance to the phenomenal person behind the face? That’s but one of several provocative questions raised in this riveting tale that grabs readers by the lapels from page one. Palacio’s writing rings with voice, and Wonder is enlivened with detail that takes us—like it or not—right back inside middle school happenings.

As the story opens, Auggie (for whom life has never been a cake walk) faces a particularly difficult challenge. He’s been home schooled by his mother all his life; now, his parents (his mother in particular) have decided he should break out into a bigger world, and they have enrolled him in a prestigious private school in Manhattan. At first, Auggie is understandably terrified. What could prove a difficult transition for any student feels to this previously sheltered 10-year-old like a surefire path to public degradation. As we soon discover, however, we underestimate Auggie at our own peril. From that dreaded first day of school to the wonderfully climactic graduation ceremony, we witness an homage to courage—and to kindness—in one of the most memorable coming of age stories in a long while.

Wonder is a book with grit and depth. Some of its characters are unlikeable—and not all undergo magical last-minute transformations, either. Hats off to Palacio for creating a world that is realistic enough to make us cringe at times, while still offering enough silver linings to satisfy our abiding belief in humanity. Auggie is a brilliantly imagined character who gains complexity throughout the book, and it’s a tribute to Palacio’s writing that while we empathize (who hasn’t endured some rough school experiences?) and cheer for him, we never pity him, even during some very dark moments. Instead, we admire his strength and patience, and his skill (that soars far beyond his years) in navigating emotionally choppy waters with a grace unique to his highly individual persona. Would we be as brave? Indeed, this is a book that invites us, repeatedly, to look at our own values and our own behavior. Hopefully, we will like and respect what we see.

In the Classroom

1. Reading. As always, take time to preview the book prior to sharing. It’s an outstanding read-aloud, with alternating moments of heroism, humor, despair, courage, and action. It’s fast-paced, high-interest, and full of variety—some of which comes from the fact that chapters are written in multiple voices. We hear first (and last) from Auggie, but in between we also hear from his sister Olivia and from other students with whom Auggie interacts. Chapters are short enough that you may have time to share several at once. Wonder also makes an outstanding choice for a smaller-group after-school book club.

2. Background. Much of Wonder deals with the rejection of people who look or seem different from ourselves. This is a highly sensitive subject, but one well worth broaching in order to prepare students to think seriously and deeply about Auggie’s experience. You may wish to spend some time discussing exclusion and inclusion in our society—particularly within school environments. Who gets included routinely? Who is excluded? Why do some people reject or avoid socializing with others? What are some of the most common motives for behaving this way? What are some of the forms that such rejection takes? How difficult is it to not go along with exclusion if one’s friends are engaging in this kind of behavior?

3. Opinion pieces. Is exclusion a form of bullying—even if it does not involve physical harm to the person targeted? And is it possible to take a strong personal stand against bullying? Take time to write about this. Since this can be a highly personal topic, you may want to assure students at the outset that they will not need to share what they write unless they feel comfortable doing so. If possible, write a piece of your own to share with the class. After writing, you may wish to discuss the topic of bullying further (see items 15 and 16 below).

4. Central Topic/Theme. What is Wonder’s central message? Is there more than one? Encourage students to write about this, and to share their writing in small groups. Then open the topic to class discussion. Suggestion: You may wish to do this more than once as you share the book together. Wonder is a book of some complexity, and students may discover more than one main theme (relating to, for example, kindness, bullying, friendship, courage, personal change and growth).

5. Organization. Wonder is a narrative, and is written chronologically. But is there more to the organizational structure than that? How much time lapses from the opening chapter through the closing chapter? Why might the author have chosen to encapsulate the story within this particular time frame? Also consider other elements that contribute to the overall organization. The book is divided into chapters, like most novels—but also into parts. Why? (Encourage students to notice that each part is written in a different voice. Also, the book starts out in Auggie’s voice, then returns to that voice at the end. Why is this significant?)

6. Voice/Narrative writing. What challenges does an author face in choosing to write a book in multiple voices? Discuss this. How hard is it for one writer to make different voices all sound authentic? Find out. Encourage students to try writing a two-person narrative in which a story is told from one point of view, then another. Each voice might be heard once—or multiple times. (Note: Students who feel ready to try it might create more than two voices.)

7. Character. The Common Core Standards for Narrative writing suggest that character traits are revealed through situations in which characters make choices—as well as through dialogue. Have students choose a character whose voice is featured in any part of this book. (Possibilities: Auggie, Olivia, Jack, Justin, Summer, Miranda.) Using quotations from the book and/or references to specific situations, analyze that character. What motivates this character? What character traits define him or her? Does this person change through the course of the book, and if so, in what way?

8. Expository writing. One of the book’s characters, Mr. Browne, has a monthly precept, a “life rule” we might say, that he writes on the board for his students. Discuss the concept of a precept: What is it, and how might it influence someone’s life? Review Mr. Browne’s list of precepts (see pages 311 and 312). Do your students have a favorite? Do you? Ask students to write a personal response to one of Mr. Browne’s precepts or to come up with one of their own. Create a class book. You may wish to follow the suggestion of the book and have students write their own postcard precepts (see pages 312 and 313) that they mail to you or to one another. Question: Do all people have precepts that they live by? Where do precepts come from anyway? (Suggestion: Create podcasts for weekly or monthly precepts at your school. Students can take turns writing these.)

9. Argument: philosophical questions. Wonder raises some serious philosophical questions. Following are a few suggestions for questions that might form the basis of a philosophical discussion or argument. Choose any one of these—or have students pose a question of their own to answer—orally, through a podcast, or in writing:
• Olivia seems happy to escape to high school where her younger brother August is not known and she does not have to be seen with him or explain anything about him. Is she justified in feeling this way, or is it wrong of her?
• At the beginning of the book, Auggie’s parents (particularly his mother) are urging him to take the big step of enrolling in a private school. Is this a good decision on their part?
• Auggie has a number of “friends” in this book. Which person would you consider to be his truest friend? Why? Cite evidence from the book to support your point of view.
• Characters in this book show kindness in a number of different ways. Cite two instances in which characters go out of their way to be “kinder than is necessary” (from the words of Mr. Tushman, pp. 299-300). Use quotations from the book to prove your point.
• At the end of the book, Mr. Tushman encourages the students from Auggie’s class to practice more kindness than they need to. Is this a good precept by which to live one’s life? Is it realistic? Why or why not?

10. Comparison/Contrast. Have any of your students read the book Mockingbird by Kathryn Erskine (see our Jan 3, 2011 post here on Gurus)? If so, invite them to write a comparative review of the two pieces. What do the two books have in common? (Consider characters, voice, organization, appeal to certain readers, themes, etc.) Are the books different in any important ways that you notice? If so, how? (Note: Encourage students to use quotations from each book to support their points of comparison.)

11. Beginning and ending. The Common Core Standards place great emphasis on beginnings that set up a story or discussion and endings that bring things to resolution. Look carefully at the opening chapter and the final five or six chapters of Wonder. Does the opening set up the story in a way that draws us in and helps define the situation and the main character, August? Was the ending what you expected, and does it bring resolution to the story? Talk about why endings matter so much to us—whether they’re endings of books, TV programs, or films. Have you or your students ever been deeply disappointed by an ending—and if so, when and why? Ask students to consider whether the ending of Wonder is precisely what they would have hoped for—or whether they might have written something different. Some students may wish to create varied endings of their own. (Note: I happen to love this ending, with its emphasis on the importance of kindness. But endings, like most things in literature, are highly personal—and often controversial!)

12. Presentation. Take time to notice the drawings that open each part of the book. What details stand out? What do these drawings tell us? Also notice the quotations that accompany the drawings. Why do you think the author chose to include them? Finally, notice the chapter headings; this writer uses words, not numbers, to define the chapters. Is this, in part, an organizational strategy? How so?

13. Description. Auggie tells us in the opening chapter, “I won’t describe what I look like. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably worse” (p. 3). The author withholds any detailed description of Auggie’s face until we are well into the book (see pages 88 and 89). Why might she want to wait? Read this description carefully, and discuss it or write personal responses. It is very vivid and detailed. Does that make it difficult to read? What is our emotional response? What response is the author hoping for? Olivia, the voice in this chapter, asks this question: “When he looks in the mirror, does he see the Auggie everyone else sees?” (p. 89). Is this a question that could be asked of anyone? Perhaps the person anyone sees in the mirror is different from the person others see. What do your students think? Write about this.

14. Analyzing dialogue. Author R. J. Palacio has been praised for the authenticity of the dialogue in her writing. Ask your students to consider whether they agree with this assessment, and if so, to cite examples of dialogue they feel works particularly well. In particular, consider the chapter titled “Letters, Emails, Facebook, Texts” (page 160ff). What does this chapter reveal about the characters involved that we could not learn through straight narrative? Do your students like this narrative technique? Have them create a narrative scene of their own involving two or more characters who communicate through letters, emails, texts, etc. Talk about the challenges involved in writing this way. Some students may wish to “perform” their scenes with partners.

15. Informational writing: bullying. As a class or in small writing groups, do some research on the subject of bullying. Is it on the increase? What forms does it take? Is it exacerbated by social media, which can sometimes make the tormenting of another person more public? What is being done to stop it? (Suggestion: If possible, make personal interviews part of this research. For example, students might speak with a school counselor or psychologist, or with an adult who recalls an experience with bullying that he or she is willing to talk about openly.)

16. Argument: bullying. Following your research on the topic of bullying, invite students to write an argument on the best way(s) to stop or prevent bullying at school. Such arguments should include documented evidence that a particular approach is effective. (Suggestion: Numerous books and articles have been written on this topic. If possible, make some available within your classroom while students are doing their research.)

Coming up on Gurus . . .
In a recent workshop, a teacher raised a very important question: If we are not going to cover students’ writing with corrections, but we DO want to teach conventions, how exactly do we go about that? Just what are the alternatives? Drop by next time and we’ll share some ideas—along with resources that include outstanding conventions lessons! Thanks for visiting. Come often—and bring friends. Remember, for the BEST workshops blending traits, common core, workshop, and writing process, call us at 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.

Kick Off Women’s History Month With Two New Biographical Picture Books

 

Miss Moore Thought Otherwise: How Anne Carroll Moore Created Libraries for Children. 2013. Jan Pinborough. Illustrator: Debby Atwell. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. 40 pp.

Genre: Informational narrative/biography/history
Ages: Grades K and up.

Summary
From the time my son was an infant until well into elementary school, we used to visit our local library at least three times a month to check out a fresh bagful of books. So, first of all, after reading this book, I need to say, “Many, many thanks to Minerva Sanders, Lutie Stearns, Mary Wright Plummer, Caroline M. Hewins, Clara Hunt, and Anne Carroll Moore!” (There are most likely many others to thank whose names are not listed here. The National Women’s History Project website reminds us, “Even when recognized in their own times, women are frequently left out of the history books.”) This formidable group of women librarians helped change attitudes about children and reading, and paved the way for the development of children’s libraries.  Anne Carroll Moore, as readers will learn in Jan Pinborough’s informative picture book, Miss Moore Thought Otherwise, used the force of her tenacious personality and her position at the New York Public Library to promote and expand the concept of children’s library services both here in the United States and in many countries around the world. (Be sure to read the “More About Miss Moore” section at the end of the book.)

It may be hard for us to believe now, but in Limerick, Maine in 1880, when Miss Moore was nine years old, attitudes about children and reading were very different from the way we think today. Kids weren’t allowed in libraries and books for children, if there were many, were often kept locked up. Children couldn’t even put their hands on books, much less check them out and take them home. But when it came to libraries, children’s books, and reading for both boys and girls, thankfully,  “Miss Moore thought otherwise.” She moved to New York to attend the Pratt Institute library school. Her first job was at the Pratt Free Library working in the new children’s room, where kids could actually take the books off the shelf! Her “otherwise” thinking at the Pratt led her to the New York Public Library system. It was here that Miss Moore’s vision for children’s libraries really came to life. Her faith in children helped her persuade New York librarians to allow kids to borrow books, take them home, and be trusted to return them. My son’s bag of books might never have happened without Anne Carroll Moore. Thank you, Anne, for always thinking “otherwise.” And thank you to Jan Pinborough and Debby Atwell for bringing Anne’s story to light. It’s up to us now to help get Miss Moore Thought Otherwise onto library shelves, into classrooms, and into the hands of young readers.

Brave Girl: Clara and the Shirtwaist Maker’s Strike of 1909. 2013. Michelle Markel. Illustrator: Melissa Sweet. New York, NY: Balzer + Bray. 32 pp.

Genre: Informational narrative/biography/history
Ages: Grades K and up.

Summary
Clara Lemlich, like Anne Carroll Moore, was also a young woman who thought and acted otherwise, and even became the leader in an otherwise movement that led to big changes for women and workers in the early 1900’s. In Michelle Markel’s inspiring new picture book, Brave Girl: Clara and the Shirtwaist Maker’s Strike of 1909, readers are introduced to a real fighter, young Clara Lemlich. Clara and her family immigrated to New York from the Ukraine to escape government persecution and find a better life. Barely speaking any English, Clara wants to go to school but is forced to seek work when her father is unable to find a job. Fortunately for her family, Clara does find work, but unfortunately for her and thousands of other young immigrant women, the work is in the garment industry. But as the author reveals to us, Clara has “grit,” and she “knows in her bones what is right and what is wrong.” Clara takes the work and faces it head on. The pay is barely enough to pay for food and rent and the working conditions are inhumane. Author Markel’s text and illustrator Sweet’s drawings and layout work seamlessly to present to young readers the harsh realities of the factories without being too scary. The pages showing an overhead view of the rows of workers crammed together, drops of blood on fabric, and a padlocked door are great examples of visuals and clear, direct text working together to help readers. On top of her hard work and long hours, Clara pushes herself by going to school at night. She just won’t quit! And she won’t accept the idea that she and her fellow workers have to be treated so poorly. Clara begins to talk with other workers, men and women, about organizing a union and striking to get better working conditions and pay. When she convinces her coworkers to walk out or picket, she and the others are fired, arrested, and even beaten. But she is “uncrushable,” and her spirit is “shatterproof.” Clara knew that her cause needed something bigger—a gigantic strike of garment workers at hundreds of factories! In 1909, Clara helped to lead the “Uprising of 20,000” garment worker’s strike. It didn’t happen overnight and it wasn’t easy, but Clara’s leadership, her grit, her uncrushable determination, and shatterproof spirit led to higher salaries, shortened workweeks, and safer factory conditions for workers in New York and across the country.

(These books will make a terrific twosome if used in tandem in your classroom. Clara and Anne’s lives, drives, and personalities have a great deal in common, so I’ll outline some ideas for their use as a duo, along with suggestions for their use as stand-alones.)

In the Classroom

1. Reading. As always, you’ll want to preview each book prior to sharing with students. I like to read picture books two to three times—I don’t want to miss anything! The illustrations in each deserve sharing as well. Miss Moore’s colorful folk-art scenes reflect both her small town background and her life in big-city America at the turn of the century. Brave Girl’s blend of watercolors with images of ledgers, paychecks, dress patterns, and close-ups of bits of fabrics stitched across the page help to bring Clara’s factory world and the working world of immigrants to life. Using a document camera will help students absorb the images and make clearer connections to the texts.

2. Background. Each of these books provides enough historical background and context to ease students into the lives of these historical figures. It might be helpful to locate New York City on a map and then find out what your students may know about the city—Big Apple, Yankees, Knicks, Broadway, Statue of Liberty, etc. Why was New York such a magnet for so many people near the turn of the century?

3. Personal connection. Miss Moore Thought Otherwise—With this book, encourage students to talk about their library experiences, both at school and at public libraries. What do they like to do at the library? How many of your students have a library card for their local public library? (At the Beaverton City Library, there is no minimum age for a card—kids can get a card whenever parents/guardians decide they are ready.) Have them imagine what it would be like if they couldn’t check out or even touch the books. What if only their parents could go inside? How would they feel if there were only books for boys/girls?

Brave Girl—The factory where Clara worked made women’s clothing, and the majority of the workers were young women themselves, some as young as six. What do your students know about how and where their own clothing is made? Have any of them ever had a “job?” What have they done to earn money for themselves?  One of the issues Clara fought against were the “rules” of her workplace—how much she was paid, what would happen if she were late to work or bled on the material, the amount of time for her lunch break, etc. Have your students discuss the rules of their worlds—home, school, classroom, or playground. Are there any rules they believe are unfair?  Have they ever worked to change a rule at home or school? Have you or any of your students ever stood up for something of personal importance?

4. Topic/Message. Each of these books is a biography, where readers are given a behind the scenes look into the life of a person who may be new to them.  Beyond when they were born and where they lived, what do your students believe the authors really want readers to remember about these two women? Why do you and your students think the authors picked Anne Carroll Moore and Clara Lemlich to write about?

5. Persuasive writing. Both Clara and Anne worked to change the beliefs and attitudes of people who disagreed with them to make their worlds better places for themselves and others. How did each of them do it? Think back to the discussion of the rules that govern their worlds of home and school. Have students select a rule they would like to change, describe their positions, and then plan how they would make their cases and persuade those in charge. (It might help to have them think, “What would Anne/Clara do? to convince someone on the other side of their argument.)  It would be both fun and useful with younger students to do a little acting/role playing with each side of their issues. In persuasive writing, it’s important to understand both sides of the argument and anticipate counter arguments.

6. Genre. The Common Core Standards divide writing into three broad genres: narrative, informational writing, and argument. Into which category do authors Markel and Pinborough’s books seem to belong?  Biographies, if done well, are probably a blend of all three. They are informational—providing facts and a sense of a timeline—but also tell the story (narrative) of a person’s life, giving readers a way to connect as they try to persuade us about the importance of the subject’s accomplishments or contributions—thankfully. Without the narrative elements, these books could end up being a list of dry facts. Have your students try writing/talking about Anne or Clara as if their lives were a story—Once upon a time there was brave young girl who came to America with her family…See how much information they are able to remember and include.

7. Informational writing.  The causes that Anne Carroll Moore and Clara Lemlich made the focus of their lives remain in the headlines today. In many cities today, public libraries have been closed or have limited hours/services due to funding problems. And many schools (including where I live) have made the tough choices to cut back on librarians and library services in the face of severe budget reductions. Working conditions and fair/equal pay continue to be issues for workers in the United States and around the world.  Invite students to choose one topic for further exploration, either as a class, small groups, or individually, depending on age. Ask them to research and write about their selected topics or create a short play/speech/public service announcement to help bring the issue to life. The bibliography of Brave Girl is divided between general and primary sources. This distinction may be one you wish to explore with your students. What is the difference? Are there certain topics/genres where primary sources are essential? Have them find bibliographies in other books. How many sources were used? What kinds of sources—the Internet, books, interviews, film, etc.—were used? Why is it always important to use more than one source and kind of research in informational writing?

9. Comparison/Contrast. Used together, these two books make ideal choices for introducing or expanding the concept of comparing and contrasting. Have students help you create a T-chart for a closer look at Anne and Clara in terms of their backgrounds, education, family, etc. As you discuss your chart, help students look closely for similarities and discern differences. You could even help your students create sentences/structures that help them express their findings, especially if the sentence structures involve elements (conjunctions, internal punctuation, etc.) that are new to them:

Examples

Both Clara and Anne lived in New York City.

Although each of the young women worked for their causes, Clara often faced physical danger and arrest.

10. Reviews. Anne Carroll Moore was determined to stock libraries with not just books for kids, but great books for young readers. She created lists of recommended books for libraries and wrote reviews of books in newspapers and journals to make sure that quality books were being published. Anne also invited authors and illustrators to visit her libraries to meet face to face with their readers. Your students could create their own lists of recommended books, do book talks about their favorites, and even role-play and answer questions as a favorite author. Share some book reviews with your students as models for their own reviews of new (or new to them) books.

11. Voice/Dialogue/Sentence Fluency. The Common Core Standards aren’t as clear about the writing trait of voice as I would be in my own classroom. Where they do emphasize some important components of voice—writers choosing an appropriate style in consideration of both audience and purpose—I think they neglect the developmental nature of the concept of voice. Younger writers need help understanding that voice comes from a focused idea, being an “expert” on your topic, making sure your thoughts make sense and are organized, choosing words that paint pictures for readers, building sentences that flow, and knowing your audience. It’s a nurturing process that involves all the traits and lots of strong models, like the two books being discussed here, and goes all the way back to number one on this list—reading the book aloud. I think it would be fun with these two books to “hear” the voices of their subjects, Anne and Clara. What if these two historical figures met? What would they talk about? What would each person’s voice sound like? If you created the T-chart suggested in number nine, you could use it to help students write some conversational dialogue. What can you and your students do to make sure each young woman has her own voice? Does their conversation sound like real people speaking? These could be read aloud, recorded like a radio interview, or even filmed.

Anne Carroll Moore                         Clara Lemlich

12. Word Choice. Work with your students to develop lists of key/important words used by each author as they describe their subjects or tell each person’s story. Discuss what it means to think “otherwise,” a phrase used not only in the title, but also at important moments for Anne throughout the book. What does author Markel mean when she says that Clara has “grit” or is “uncrushable?” Pay close attention to the verbs each author chooses. For example, here are a few of the verbs chosen by author Jan Pinborough as she tells Miss Moore’s story—trusted, created, persuaded, pushed, pulled, wrote, encouraged. What do these choices tell us about Miss Moore? Look carefully at these choices from Brave Girl—locked, bend, hurry, hiss, crammed, bleed, fired. What does the author want us to know about Clara’s working life?

13. For additional information. The authors each provide a More About… section focusing on their subjects, time periods, and issues, along with a bibliography for further research. For older students looking for a connection to Brave Girl, check out the November 30, 2011 post about Albert Marrin’s book, Flesh & Blood So Cheap: the Triangle Fire and Its Legacy. The National Women’s History Project site, nwhp.org, is another good resource for more information about Women’s History Month. And to discover more about the authors and illustrators:

Miss Moore Thought Otherwise–

janpinborough.com

debbyatwell.com

 Brave Girl–

michellemarkel.com

melissasweet.net

Coming up on Gurus . . . 
Next up, Vicki reviews Wonder, by R.J. Palacio, a 2013 Newbery contender with an important message about kindness. Thanks for visiting. Come often—and bring friends. Remember, for the BEST workshops blending traits, common core, workshop, and writing process, call us at 503-379-3034. Give every child a voice.

 

A Powerful Book for Boosting Informational/Argument Skills

Beyond Courage: The Untold Story of Jewish Resistance During the Holocaust. 2012. Doreen Rappaport. Somerville, MA: Candlewick Press. 196pp. (excluding extensive notes)
Genre: Informational narrative, history
Ages: Grades 6 and up. Rappaport handles a delicate topic with great sensitivity and skill. The content is necessarily somber—at times horrific—but Rappaport manages to make these stories accessible to younger readers without disguising or glossing over the truth.

Summary
In her moving Introduction, author Doreen Rappaport confesses that even while growing up in a Jewish household, she was told that during the Second World War, “Jews went like lambs to the slaughter.” Was it true? Determined to find out for herself, she embarked on a rigorous investigation that included six years of personal interviews with Holocaust survivors. Her conclusion: Even deprived of resources, homes, clothing, weapons, and virtually anything to fight with save their intellect and courage, the Jews proved to be formidable opponents, outwitting Nazi extremists at every turn, and preserving their treasured culture against overwhelming odds. Deeply moved by what she had learned, Rappaport wanted to share her findings with the world, and the result is this book.

Chilling in detail, highly readable, and impressively researched, Beyond Courage reveals the personal stories of people, many in their teens or younger, who risked everything to preserve their identity. Together, facing opposition from a political machine out to annihilate them, they set up schools, devised ingenious plans for smuggling children out of harm’s way (knowing they might never see them again), sabotaged Nazi trains and weapon depositories, trained themselves to be expert forgers in order to create travel documents, established wilderness camps from which to launch more elaborate plans, and routinely plotted and conducted the most daring escapes imaginable.

Children as young as seven or eight became spies and soldiers. Women carried weapons. People of all ages and both sexes faced unthinkable persecution, prejudice, starvation, and torture, yet refused to surrender or renounce their religion. They weren’t just brave. They were unstoppable. This is their story—and it is stunning.

In the Classroom

1. Reading. As always, you’ll want to preview the book prior to sharing. While it may be long to share in its entirety, it is broken down into 20 individual chapters, each of which is fairly short. You might choose one or two to share aloud, then invite students to read the remainder of the book on their own. Or as an alternative, choose a number of individual passages to read orally. Notice that the book contains historic summaries as well as the stories of individual resistance fighters. You will want to draw from both.

2. Background. What stories have your students heard about the Holocaust or Jewish resistance and survival during the time of World War II? Have they read The Story of a Young Girl (Anne Frank’s diary), In My Hands by Irene Opdyke, Survivors: True Stories of Children in the Holocaust by Allan Zullo, The Secret Holocaust Diaries by Carolyn Tomlin—or other books detailing true stories of the Holocaust, its victims, and its survivors? What do they know about Hitler, World War II, the Nazi movement, concentration camps, or the story of Hitler’s rise to power and eventual defeat? You may wish to provide some historic background prior to sharing the book to provide a context, keeping in mind that some history of the time is recounted in the book itself. If you are familiar with literature on this topic, you may also wish to create, with your students, a reading and media list for extended learning.

3. Personal connection. Are you or are any of your students of Jewish descent? What stories have you or they heard from parents, grandparents, or other relatives about Jewish resistance during the Holocaust? Can you or they provide any personal perspectives to enrich your class’s understanding of what Jews endured and overcame during this difficult and terrifying time? Regardless of heritage, we all have traditions or beliefs we hold dear, and family, religious, or cultural ties that are sacred. Ask students to imagine how it would feel to be evicted from their homes, separated from their families and possessions, and exist in constant fear of deportation or death. Would they have the personal courage to fight back, even if their lives or the lives of their families were at stake? Write a reflective piece about this—and expand this writing after sharing and discussing the book. (Suggestion: Before they write, share with your students poet Henryk Lazowertówna’s poem, p. 82. You may wish to have them perform it aloud, individually or through choral reading.)

4. Topic. From Rappaport’s Introduction, we know the central theme of the book: to demonstrate the extent to which the Jews fought back against Nazi domination. Does Rappaport make her case? Is this a persuasive book? If so, which stories or individual incidents provide, in your students’ opinions, particularly convincing evidence of Jewish strength and courage?

5. Persuasive writing. Is fighting back always the right choice—or is it a matter of judgment or circumstance? Are there times when the price to be paid for resistance is simply too great to justify opposition? Argument: Have students make a case for resisting oppression at all costs—or for peacefully abiding by a government’s rules, even if they seem unjust. If opposition involves violence, is it still justified? Under what circumstances? Have students use examples from the book or from current events to defend their arguments.

6. Character. The Common Core Standards for Narrative remind us that characters reveal their nature through the choices they make in challenging situations. Share the chapter titled “Coffee and Tea,” the story of Walter Süskind and his elaborate plans to rescue Jewish children. Based on the information in this chapter, what sort of person was Walter Süskind? What details help us to understand him? Based on the book, would your students regard his story as unusual—or was his a typical story of those who fought back? Cite evidence to support your claim.

7. Genre. The Common Core Standards divide writing into three broad genres: narrative, informational writing, and argument. Into which category does Doreen Rappaport’s book fall—or is it an effective blend of all three? Is narrative writing often informational? And do stories often provide the basis for sound argument? Does good writing generally comprise several different genres? Discuss or write about this.

8. Organization. Take a few minutes to discuss how this complex text is organized. Read the Introduction aloud, focusing on the six years of interviews and other research Rappaport did in compiling information in which to base her book. Have students imagine what it is like to have such an overwhelming collection of details, and to try putting them into a framework readers can process in a reasonable amount of time. What challenges would a writer face in doing this? What organizational strategies does Rappaport use to make this extensive and detailed information manageable for us, as readers? (Consider, among other things, how the book is divided into five sections and then into 20 chapters. Notice also the different kinds of text: historic summaries as well as stories. You may also wish to comment on how the author keeps individual sections short. Obviously, there was more—much more—to tell. How did she decide what to include? Also notice that while some of the organization is chronological, Rappaport also brings together multiple voices. Consider other topics for which a multi-voiced organizational approach might work well.)

9. Informational writing. The story of Jewish resistance is vast, and cannot be covered in a single book, however well-researched and written. Invite students to choose one topic for further exploration: e.g., life in the Warsaw Ghetto, Kristallnacht (the Night of Broken Glass), deportation of Jewish children, wilderness camps, children who acted as spies or procurers of food, the role played by skilled forgers, modern-day perspectives on the Holocaust. Ask them to research and write about their selected topics. You may also want to spend some time discussing the nature of research: Where will they find the best information? Note that Rappaport obtained much of her information through personal interviews—in other words, from first-hand sources. How is obtaining information from a first-hand source different from visiting a library or going on the Internet? What types of sources are most dependable when it comes to accuracy? And why is it always important to incorporate more than one kind of research (e.g., site visits, interviews, films, print) when preparing to write an informational piece?

10. Comparison/Contrast. If students have read any other literature written about the Holocaust (see item 2 above), invite them to do a comparison between any other work and Beyond Courage. That comparison might feature central themes, each writer’s approach to the topic, the kind of research each writer did, writing styles, document design, or any other elements of the two works. Students should be prepared to reference specific sections of each work, and include quotations from both works.

11. Reviews. Invite students to write reviews of Beyond Courage. They should focus on the strengths of the work and the audience for whom they think this writing is most appropriate. Reviews might be presented in written form or as podcasts or PowerPoint presentations. They can also be posted online with a vendor (e.g., Amazon) that invites such reviews.

12. Voice. The Common Core Standards suggest that informational writing or argument should be written in a style that is appropriate for the topic and audience. In other words, they are asking writers in such genres to assume a professional voice. Share any passage from the book aloud—e.g., the opening to the chapter titled “Scream the Truth at the World!” (p. 81). In this chapter, Rappaport is describing people starving on a diet of 184 calories per day—and children as young as six smuggling food into hungry families in the ghetto. How would you describe the voice she uses in this (or another) passage? Is it the right voice for this book? Why? (Note that Rappaport does not try to dramatize her information—but neither does she shrink from it. She relays her information in an unflinching but decidedly restrained fashion, letting the facts speak for themselves.)

13. Presentation. What do your students notice about the overall design of the book? You might draw their attention to colors, shifts in fonts, illustrations (what sorts of photos or drawings were chosen?), and the subtle background images. What do those images convey? The photos include numerous individual portraits of Jewish fighters, rather than Nazi military personnel or war criminals. Why is this significant? Also notice the silvery gray and blue cover of the book. What do those colors suggest?

14. Beginning and ending. Beyond Courage opens and closes with the words of Franta Bass, age eleven. Read Franta’s short free verse poem aloud and discuss what it reveals about her. Why do you think the author chose this piece to both open and close her book? What does this repetition say to us as readers? One need not be Jewish to feel the kind of pride and determination Franta conveys in her stirring poetry. Invite students to write poems of their own, honoring their own culture, heritage, or family.

15. Reflections on history. By her own admission, even the book’s author believed for many years that Jews had gone submissively to their deaths during the war. What created this impression? Write about this (Suggestion: Interview people of Jewish and non-Jewish heritage prior to writing). Many Jews were told they were being “relocated,” when in fact they were being shipped to work or death camps. Would they have resisted more forcefully had they known the truth? Could this sort of deception succeed (with any people) in our own culture in the present time? Why or why not? Have students write an argumentative essay taking one side or the other, and supporting their claims with specific evidence.

16. For additional information. The author provides extensive notes suggesting sources for further research (see the back of the book for important dates, source notes, and an impressive bibliography). In addition, however, she strives to continue the journey of discovery begun by this book by posting additional resistance stories on her website: http://www.doreenrappaport.com We invite you to visit her there.

Coming up on Gurus . . .
Next up, in honor of Women’s History Month (March 1-31), Jeff reviews two picture book biographies: Miss Moore Thought Otherwise: How Anne Carroll Moore Created Libraries for Children by Jan Pinborough, and Brave Girl: Glara and the Shirtwaist Maker’s Strike of 1909 by Michelle Markel. Thanks for visiting. Come often—and bring friends. Remember, for the BEST workshops blending traits, common core, workshop, and writing process, call us at 503-379-3034. Give every child a voice.

Vision and Revision: The 6 Traits and the Common Core

At Gurus, we’re often asked how the Common Core State Standards (www.commoncore.org) connect to the 6 traits. In the last few posts, we’ve talked about how the CCSS links to four specific traits: ideas, organization, voice, and word choice (the four most emphasized in the Common Core). But take a step back and you see at once that the real link between traits and standards is much more sweeping: Each of these conceptual frameworks provides us with a vision of what excellent writing should look like. And both, ultimately, drive toward strengthening students’ skills in revision. Let’s look at what the two have in common—and then at some ways we can help students achieve success as writers and revisers.

Traits in a nutshell. The 6 traits are the engine that makes writing work–all writing, since the beginning of time. Ideas are about good information: main idea and development through detail. Organization is the skeletal structure, the architecture of a document. Voice is the writer’s perspective and passion—together with the confidence that comes from knowing a topic well. Word choice is self-defining, but goes beyond individual words to the phrasing and overall tone of a document. Sentence fluency depends on rhythm and variety, but is also measured by a writer’s ability to link sentences in meaningful and seamless ways through the use of effective transitions. The trait of conventions & presentation covers editorial correctness, use of conventions to bring out meaning and voice, and the packaging of information to make it both eye catching and accessible to readers.

Learning CCSS vocabulary. All six traits are touched upon in the CCSS—but not necessarily under the names familiar to 6-trait teachers. The secret to making the connection is to learn the CCSS language. The writing standards call for organization, development, substance and style. Clearly organization refers to the trait of that same name in the 6 trait model. Development and substance are key components of ideas. Style is a fusion of voice, word choice, sentence structure—and yes, sometimes even conventions & presentation. (To see how style is influenced by presentation, think of italics, bold print, full capitals, ellipses, boxed sidebars, bulleted lists, illustrations, bold colors, overall page design—and more). The traits of word choice and conventions also receive special attention within the language standards (and it’s clear that students will need to be skilled editors to meet the requirements of the standards). Presentation (sometimes considered the alter ego of conventions) is covered in the CCSS under writing process and production (Standards 4 through 6).

Genre to genre shifts. The traits span all genres, but admittedly look a little different in research-based writing (informational, argument, technical, and some nonfiction narrative) versus creative writing (personal narrative, expository—or any writing that comes right out of the writer’s head, without need for research). For example, in creative writing, strong ideas might emerge as imagery, character development, or sensory details. We want to smell the aromas escaping from the kitchen where someone’s cooking, or understand what motivates a hero or villain, or picture Australian wombats toddling along like (in author Sneed Collard’s words) “furry tractors with legs” (Pocket Babies, p. 36). In informational writing, ideas may emerge as careful observations, taking us inside an artery or to the craters of Mars; or as data, revealing economic fluctuations or the influence of a vegetarian diet on heart disease.

Other traits differ in parallel ways. Word choice might be edgy and daring in a creative piece, more formal in a report. We want the voice in a mystery novel to give us chills; in a technical document, we want to hear the voice of a professional who’s knowledgeable, confident, and in full control of the discussion. Conventions can be playful in a poem; they must be as precise and correct as possible in a lab report in order to limit misinterpretation.

Figuring out WHAT TO TEACH. The first three standards direct our attention to three umbrella genres: narrative, informational writing, and argument. We might begin with teaching these genres. The Common Core Standards call for students to think continually about what’s appropriate for topic and audience as they write. This means first choosing a genre by identifying the purpose for writing: to tell a story (narrative), to inform (informational/expository), or to persuade (argument).

And as noted earlier, language and style (and even content and organizational structure) must shift genre to genre. Students sometimes have a hard time realizing that the laid back style of a personal narrative is inappropriate for a research summary or lab report. They need to both read and write frequently and repeatedly across all genres—beginning at a very early grade level—in order to get a deep, personal understanding of these shifts. Moving genre to genre can feel like going from a wedding to a football game—it takes some rehearsal to do it smoothly.

Zeroing in on specific lessons. At the same time, reading through the requirements for each genre (Standards 1 through 3), it’s interesting to note the many commonalities among these forms of writing. Whether the writer is creating a story, argument, or report, it is ALWAYS important to set things up with a good lead. It is ALWAYS important to dig for unexpected details and to develop ideas clearly. It is ALWAYS important to use effective, precise language, to link ideas, and to close in a way that is both satisfying and thought provoking. In other words, though audience and purpose may change, many elements of good writing remain constant—and these are elements we need to teach.

Guess what? The very kinds of lessons we teach in conjunction with the 6 traits (e.g., how to write a strong lead, how to use sensory detail) are perfect for helping students comply with the standards across genres. Trait-based instruction supports the standards in this very direct way. But the link goes deeper than that. It’s also about the way writers write.

Process, process, process. Have a look at Standards 4, 5, and 6. They’re all about process. Students are asked to engage in various writing processes to plan, draft, and revise their writing—sometimes with the help of partners who listen and respond to what the writer has said. The 6 traits are grounded in process, and cannot exist without it. In particular, the traits hold the key to revision.

People often imagine that the traits exist mainly to support assessment. Nothing could be further from the truth. A 6-trait writing guide (rubric) can certainly be used in this way, but that is not its primary purpose. It’s called a writing guide for a reason: It’s a guide to revision.

Skim through the top levels of any good writing guide (student or teacher version), and it will hit you at once: These are the things writers do when they revise. They add detail, craft a new lead, reorder information, improve transitions, change the voice to suit the audience, alter the word choice, smooth out sentences, edit. Why is this important? Because when we teach the traits as they were meant to be taught—through revision practice—we teach students strategies they can use to revise their own writing, or any writing on earth. And in so doing, we prepare them to comply with the standards and to become lifelong writers. After all, many if not most will be writing in college, on the job, or for real world purposes long after they’ve forgotten either traits or standards even existed.

Figuring out HOW TO TEACH. Let’s say we identify specific elements to teach: leads and endings, clear language, transitions, main ideas, details, and the rest. How do we do it? We recommend four approaches—recognizing that of course there’s more to teaching writing than this (e.g., we also need conferences, good communication, teaming, formative assessment, and more), but these four provide a core of sound, results-oriented instruction:

• Assessing and discussing samples of writing
• Using literature
• Practicing revision on someone else’s writing
• Modeling

Let’s look at each one briefly, considering its implication for enhancing students’ revision skills. (Here’s the ultimate criterion: When a student can revise anything you throw at him or her, that student can unequivocally be called a writer.)

Assessing and discussing writing samples. We have a saying: What you can assess you can revise. Not assess in the sense of scoring and grading, but assess in the sense of taking a close look, studying, analyzing, discussing, critiquing, understanding. One of the most effective ways to teach writing is to help students become astute critics, both of their own work and that of others. But, wait—doesn’t this happen automatically when we teach literature? Not usually, no, because in our discussions of literature, we tend to focus on such things as character development, themes, tone, or connections to current events. We don’t always talk about literature as writing—the way, say, a critic might talk about it: the grabber lead, the disappointing ending, the striking imagery, the inflated or striking language, the comic voice, the vivid characters so real you feel you know them, the sentences that flowed like music, the setting you couldn’t get out of your head, etc. We should, though. Not in place of literary analysis, but as part of it.

Moreover, in assessing writing, we need to go beyond books. Students also need to read and discuss newspaper columns, ads, letters, business correspondence, textbooks, technical documents, and of course, the writing of other students. Think of the writing your students may produce after leaving school; find copies of such writing and analyze them together. Students don’t need to score this writing necessarily (though many enjoy this), but they need to respond to questions like these: Does this writing make sense? What is this writer trying to say? Can you follow it? Do you like the language the writer chose? Does the piece begin and end well? Does the tone work? Are you engaged, put off, intrigued, enlightened, baffled? Do you see any errors? Would you structure sentences differently? Cut anything out? Add anything? If you were going to revise this piece, what would YOU do?

Using literature. You may have particular books (or other literature) that you discuss with your students for purposes of focusing on themes, topic development, character development, and so on. But when you begin to see literature as writing, it swings open a whole new door of sharing. Be a reader—and a collector. Grab some Post-It notes or a yellow highlighter. Choose little moments (anything from a phrase to a paragraph or two) from a wide range of documents to share aloud with your students so you can illustrate things like these:

• Strong lead or ending
• Effective transition
• Beautifully crafted sentence
• Sensory detail
• Strong verbs
• Precise language or terminology
• Effective use of dashes, semicolons, italics, or other conventions
• Effective use of color, illustrations, or other design features

When students begin to really notice what professional writers do, they discover things they can try, too. They see options—and their writing blossoms with possibility.

Something else magical happens when we see all forms of writing as writing. We recognize the value of sharing picture books with older students, or snippets of nonfiction adult books with young children. Not having to share a whole work is very freeing. Suddenly, we don’t have to care so much about age appropriateness (a very confining way to view literature). We learn to look beyond all that to the lessons a particular piece teaches. We can help students appreciate a phrase that captures our imagination, a book cover so beautiful it causes us to buy the book, a title that’s just perfect, an exemplary use of the semicolon. Think little and you open an instructional door you’ll never close again.

Practicing revision on someone else’s writing. Most students never revise anything but their own work. It’s not enough. Students simply don’t write enough to gain the practice they need to become strong revisers. In addition, they may not encounter the range of writing problems you want them to solve: rewriting a lead, getting rid of unneeded or irrelevant words or sentences, strengthening details, creating transitions, and more. (Please note that tasks like these will be included on upcoming CCSS assessments: see http://www.smarterbalanced.com for sample items.) But you can provide this practice by sharing real-world writing that needs help—or asking them to revise anonymous student samples.

There are some tricks to making this practice work: (1) Choose samples with obvious problems needing attention because this makes the task both manageable and interesting; (2) Provide double spaced copy, if possible, so students have room to revise; OR, provide online copy so students can revise right within a word processing program; (3) Keep the practice focused so that students are zeroing in on one kind of problem, such as lack of detail or need for more precise language; and (4) Ask students to work individually at first, then to share with partners so they talk about the task—out of that discussion comes insight no lecture or demonstration can equal.

Because hands-on revision is one of the most effective ways to teach writing, expect fantastic results. Note: Students who know the 6 traits well have within their repertoire literally dozens of ideas for tackling revision. The more they know about the traits, the greater their success at revision will be.

Modeling. When teachers think of modeling, many of them imagine themselves standing in front of students, ponderously penning a whole essay. This is one way to go about it, all right, but for most teachers, this approach would be not only time consuming, but stressful. There’s an art to writing and talking about your writing at the same time, and it takes practice. So why not start small? Luckily, some of the BEST modeling is very small, and literally takes only moments.

Take topic selection. You might write down (or discuss orally) three topics you’re thinking of writing about at any given moment. Your students will be intrigued—guaranteed. And you will have provided a priceless lesson on how writers come up with ideas. Take one of your topic ideas (your students’ choice, perhaps) and while students look on, write three possible one-sentence leads. Have students choose the one they like best (it’s usually the third—what does that tell us?). Here are just a handful of other things you can model in a minute or less:

• Adding a significant detail
• Adding just 2 or 3 strong verbs to a paragraph to see what difference they make
• Combining two sentences
• Starting a sentence in a different way
• Removing unneeded words from one or two sentences
• Removing a sentence that’s unrelated to the topic at hand
• Discussing possible ways to end a piece
• Coming up with a good title
• Figuring out where to look for more information on a topic
• Narrowing a topic (lions, instead of wild animals of the world)
• Figuring out to do when you feel like quitting—but you can’t

For more ideas . . .
For much more about connecting the traits and the CCSS, as well as using all the strategies outlined above, see Creating Writers: 6 Traits, Process, Workshop and Literature, 6th edition, 2013, by Vicki Spandel. Available on Amazon.

For writing and revision lessons directly connecting the 6 traits to the CCSS, please see The Write Traits Classroom Kits by Vicki Spandel and Jeff Hicks, available through http://www.hmheducation.com/write-traits/. These kits are grade level specific for grades 1 through 8. Be sure to request the NEW edition to ensure connection to the CCSS.

Coming up on Gurus . . .
We haven’t forgotten the remarkable book Beyond Courage by Doreen Rappaport. That review (along with ideas for writing and discussion) will be posted very soon. And look for other reviews of outstanding literature in the weeks to come. We’ll also have some comments on teaching editing skills effectively. So—stop by often, pick up our RSS feed to stay tuned in, and if you like our posts, tell friends. Remember, for the very finest workshops featuring traits, process, literature, workshop AND the Common Core State Standards, phone 503-579-3034. Give every child a voice.